Ouroboros Spine amgignax

the watchman was attentive, serving his role as guardian well, as he patrolled the outer territory of the moon village.

he had only met few this far, but had begun to learn the land well. it felt like home; and, for this, he was grateful. 

it wasn't often that he acclimated to new places well. moonglow had been a first for him.

in time, it would only get better.

peregrine, much like the strange man who ranged the outer edges of the spine, spent much of his time guarding. the redhawk blood within him flared during this time of such tension among the moon-people. who was this face? what was his claim?
who the fuck are you? although he is brusque, his tone is not necessarily aggressive; but his eyes are shining slits of florida sunset, hard and assertive. because that was his job, was it not? second hunter; feed the people, protect them. lemme guess. you a stray kukutux picked up?

the abrupt tone of the unfamiliar man startled him slightly, but he settled with an eased expression.

no stray, really. i came upon sunman first. he invited me to join as guardian, so i did.

but who were they to approach him so rudely? were all of the village like this? aside from sunman and moonwoman, of course.

and who are you to moonglow? he returns the interrogation, eyes narrowed slightly.

guardian, huh? peregrine chides, eyes half-hooded. he settles into an easy pace alongside the watchman. interesting. i guess that means you and i will be working together.
when he's asked of his own position, he considers snapping back with a none of your business — this guy was the newbie here, why did he care? but he stops himself with a hard bite to the inside of his cheek.
zeta. and secondhunter, he says then, tone matter-of-fact and curt. name's peregrine redhawk.