with a call to @Jarilo that she was going out for the day, kukutux wrapped a dark strip of weaselpelt around her slender shoulders and set out. her trajectory took her to the glen first, and then the pale woman was stealing hesitantly toward the lake in the distance. once there, the duck found her anxiety at being this far from moonspear was waning.

she thought of revui as she picked her way around the edge of the sodden bank and pressed into forest filled with naked branches where only a few stubborn berries clung now, picked clean by birds preparing for the winter to come. it was in winter that she had come to moonspear, and now almost a cycle of moons beyond, she was wife and mother.

how strange time was. kukutux passed presently out of the woods and stopped her trek at the lip of a large grassy bowl, down into which she gazed with a hunter's interest. she had not been so far from her home in remembrance, and looked back as if to assure herself the packland remained, its spire stabbing fiercely into the skies.