There was a pack here, one nestled among small mountains. Anathema, who had never encountered a pack she did not belong to, was intrigued. She crept along the rises circling the pack, nose dipping every so often to catch the scents along the ground.
There were so many wolves here, like Brecheliant. Ana wasn't sure if she wanted to announce herself. Instead she would linger here along the borders until her curiosity dwindled — or until someone found her.
the jadestone eyes were soft as they took in the girl at her borders. traveling back from the coppice, she carried around her shoulders a hide, sun-warmed and ready to be worked into leather.
it was heavy for the ageing mother; she set it down and cupped her ears toward the figure wandering the boundary. the wind brought the scent of brecheliant.
"this woman greets you," came the call of her voice.
Ana was sniffing intently at a stray spot of old blood in the snow. She didn't notice the pale wolf at all.
This woman greets you.
She flinched, stumbling back a little as her head snapped up in search of whoever had spoken. Her eyes landed on a woman; small but still taller than her, older but with brighter eyes than her own, fur in soft shades of snow and moonlight. For a moment she was frozen.
Are you a ghost?
a ghost?
kukutux grinned. "i still breathe. there is still blood in me." she knew the pack-mark worn by the child. "you are traveling from brecheliant. bronte was here, not long ago."
the greenstone eyes were kind.
Bronte. Anathema let out a breath and some of the tension in her body when the woman mentioned her. A ghost would not know the girl, she felt.
Yes. Brecheliant,
She breathed, eyes flitting all around as if she'd only just realized she was not at the Caldera. What is this place?
Why did the woman wear the skin of another beast?
"this is the village moonglow. i am kukutux, moonmother."
it was odd still! to place moonwoman down upon the steppes of her voice, to know it was now draped around the shoulders of her moondoe.
"what is the name that you have?"
Moonglow. Kukutux. Moonmother. I didn't know the moon had a mother,
Ana commented quietly, eyes flitting up to the sky in spite of full daylight. The moon had a mother, and she was here upon the earth rather than up in the sky; maybe that was just the way of things. Maybe mothers were always meant to leave their children behind.
My name is Anathema,
She added, gaze drifting back down to Kukutux. You could call me Ana, if you want.
A few rapid clicks accompanied the words. She couldn't help but remember her own mother, then, and how she'd been left behind.
small worn teeth showed in a grin.
"it is the moon which sees the heart of mothers, ana," kukutux said softly. "come to my ulaq. i have fish-fat and rose-tea. come," she said again, and turned to move slowly along the path up to the long-standing shelters.