they had left the mountains. for now -- lótë could not think that it might be for good.

it would work. it had to. 

what would it mean if it didn't? had she gone mad?

a glance at saviguk, studying him closely. she could not come to grips with the idea that the soft-spoken man might not be real. 

instead, she murmured to him of a desire to settle and make camp for the night. they'd need to rest after the journey to moonglow before continuing their trek to the sea. 

with a few words of planning, they went separate ways momentarily. neither seemed inclined to speak much after what had happened at the borders and lótë sensed he needed to be alone with his thoughts just as much as she. 

silence settled over the four-year as she padded through the long grasses and skirted around the occasional rock formation. thoughts swarmed as it pressed on her ears, all of them as unfocused and lost as the herd-stalker herself. 

any other time, the prairie might have been peaceful and a welcoming place for someone in need of escape. it was not so for aiwë, however, too swept up in the exhausted turmoil of recent events. 

absently, she tracked the prints and spoor of a hare, thinking she might find some relaxation in the process and wear herself down enough to sleep rather than ruminate. it had been several hours since the hare had passed through and the challenge was a welcome distraction. 

a better one came along though, in the fresh, familiar scent of river water and mossy stones. sandulf. 

lótë perked up and glanced around, as if he might be within sight. 

for a moment, she deliberated, as his scent carried east towards the territory of moonglow. her ears flattened nervously, wondering if she might be condemned entirely for encroaching too close to the village. 

after a moment, she set off in search of sandulf -- deciding she would turn back if she couldn't locate him before getting too close to the spinelands. 

she caught sight of him just as he chuffed. a grin broke across her lips, lighting up her features as if in tandem with sandulf's own. at first, her words seemed to escape her in excitement. her eyes dipped demurely, her head ducking. 

she found them again, nearly informing the pathfinder that she had remembered the name she'd chosen. 

yet, lótë liked hearing him call her aiwë -- strangely enough. it had been so long since anyone knew her true name.

"hello again," she beamed up at sandy. "i take it you've been delivering messages?" 

as if she had walked beside him her entire life, the mother fell in beside sandulf and meandered along in his company contentedly. 

a wan smile graced her dusky features for but a moment, unable to conjure much joy at the thought of moonglow momentarily and yet, unwilling to taint this meeting with loss again. "i enjoy it there too." her tone hinted at more, some secret. it was a village she had helped to build, the place where she had been broken, the place where her children had been born. 

the village was her life. 

"aya," aiwë signed in confirmation, weary but lacking in remorse. "i have found a son along the way," she shared, turning to smile at sandulf with warmth.

"and now we must venture further, north. to the sea." she refrained from telling him the truth of the tale. that they must cleanse their spirits in the sea to return home -- and that it may all be for naught.

"what will you do now, sandulf?" she asked of him then, turning to the he-wolf with curiosity etched upon her face. "now that you have visited the village?"

He didn't know what had transpired on the mountain and he didn't need to know. It wasn't his business and Sandy was the type to stay out of other's business unless someone was getting hurt. Then well, he'd probably step in.

He blinked surprised then smiled brightly. White fang glittered for amoment. That's great. Tell me about him? It's good he found someone like you to care about him.

He shook his head. Nothing much. Just head back to Riverclan, mostly. Enjoy the time there. There's new pups there too. Ash Paw has some and Silvertongue had some. Don't know if anymore will come, but then need a hunter now more than ever feeding all those little bellies.

 

the dove floundered silently a moment. what could be said without souring this. without revealing too much. 

"i did not know kukutux's first husband. even so, i imagine that their son takes after his ataata." lótë's lips curled gently, affectionately. "but all i can see is kukutux when i look at him." 

cucuollë's pale gaze of spring growth cut to him, almost shyly. "it is a long story. complex. i am second wife to sunman." 

her head dipped, gaze falling to the path ahead. it was an honor, certainly. and there was great love in their marriage, but not the kind that kept one warm at night. 

"kukutux is my sister. my children are hers. and hers mine."

she wondered if it was still true. if her children even thought of her as a mother at all. 

"i am tuttuk-tutjak," lótë divulged something else, switching gears easily as the conversation moved away from personal topics. "herd-watcher. i could help you?"

the doe wasn't entirely sure she'd be welcomed back into the village with open arms. not as long as she was insistent on saving  helping saviguk. and sandulf was a friend. if his people needed help, then perhaps they'd be willing to accept a stranger into their midst for a few weeks to pad the caches.

lótë grinned. "aya, she does." for a moment, something young glimmered in her face. the lost girl whom sialuk had found on the glacier. so impressionable and impressive were they both that lótë had called them family and hearth. 

"of course," the four-year breathed, the same easy smile greeting him when she stopped to face sandulf's umber countenance -- head tipping back so her gaze could find his own.

"i admit, it would be similarly refreshing for me as well," aiwë murmured sheepishly. empathy softened her face as he continued, explaining. 

she could see much of herself in him, which was perhaps why they seemed to mesh so well.

sandulf was almost stalwart, save for his warmth. soft spoken, reserved. and lótë knew what it was to hunger for the simple things in life -- something she suspected they might also have in common. 

"i do not find you to be dull or boring," the mother reassured, head tipping just so as if studying the whole of him. trying to see the scarred man as a stranger might. 

"it is not always easy to see yourself as you are. i am almost certain those in your village find your company as enjoyable as i do."

Sandy smiled. He wasn't sure of the whole story. But he was glad to at least help a little to make a smile come to her face. She had seemed quite grave when he had encountered her again.

A small smile on his face at his words. And he nodded. Thank you. I appreciate that.

He shifted and looked around them, a little uncomfortable now with the praise, but it was alright. He'd get over it soon enough. Though his eyes sparkled a little more now. It was nice to know he wasn't as stale as he thought he was.

There wasn't much that he didn't love about Riverclan. The fresh air, the rivers, the way the land was like paradise and the abundance of prey. Mostly small game, but there were enough deer to keep them fed. 

aras dipped her head in a slight, jerky nod -- finding she could not meet sandulf's bright gaze for long. it was as if the air had become thin and fragile between them. the hart felt the scars along her haunch tug numbly as she curled them beneath her, head ducking as she shyly fought off the way her smile wished to widen. 

both seemed to take a moment to compose themselves. fumbling, awkward in their attempts of intimacy. 

it was a relief, for once, to not be alone in this. endearing him to her further. 

good ear perking as the scout's next words hit it, lótë peeked up at him once more. 

"i'm sure i will," the hunter assured readily, a fond grin flitting over her lips. "it sounds much like the land of many elms."

"non, it is the name of the land where my people build villages," aiwë corrected gently, rising and trailing alongside him. her steps remained slow, almost reluctant. 

she did not wish to part ways. 

returning to the present, to the journey at hand meant remembering what had happened in moonglow. 

it also meant she might not see sandulf again, not until she'd returned saviguk home and made the trek out to riverclan. 

"i will need to take savi to the sea," she informed him, octaves dropping somberly. "and then bring him back to our village."

"i must speak with my sister and sunman. and to my children, if they will see me."

"but i will try to meet you at your village within a fortnight." she dipped her head, a solemn vow. "i would offer you to travel with savi and i but those in the village might think you to be evil too." her lips quirked weakly as she said it, not spiteful towards those who had condemned them -- but not stony enough to deny it did not hurt.