Moonsong Glacier sikingilak

She brought @Melaneus with wherever she went.

They would walk upon Moonsong together, she had decided. Then she would take him back to the village with her. Whether for a visit or goodbyes might be unknown. She had found something new and wild with the hunter by her side. When they roamed under moonlight and stardust, she felt most connected with the world. The spirits.

She trusted him to be near when she began to speak into the cold, snowy air.

I must walk with spirits.

It was a thing of women, she thought at once. Then realized she was alone. Devoid of a circle, devoid of @Kukutux's guiding hand or the strength of @Shikoba.

Her circle would be just her.

A star alone with her moon.

Will you stay close when I speak with them?

In Callyope’s presence, he began to understand why the world had taken so much from him. What he lost in his family remained a heavy blow, but the pain softened in his starflower’s light. For what he gained in her was already so much greater than anything he had asked the heavens to give him as he wandered alone through the corridors of the shadowed Weald.

She shared fragments of her purpose here, and though Melaneus did not fully understand, he had long surmised in their days together that there would be many things about Callyope he would not understand. But he could listen, and he could try, as much as he knew she would do for him.

He gazed upon the moon touched glacier. Their shadows cut long silhouettes across the ground.

I will, he said, and while his skin prickled with a sense of unease, he looked to her, composed as his breath billowed around the air between them, as close as you will let me be.

It was a thing of women when I have done it. Now I do it on behalf of my mother.

She told him softly, but now she neared close to him. Empowered and feeling a sense of safety akin to what Moonglow gave her. Yet different! For it was him and it was new.

But I will be safer with you here, I think. She found herself yearning to reach into the thick of his ruddy fur. To sap his warmth and his strength before she laid underneath the stars for her talking. She could allow herself this first, no?

It was a thing of women.

Melaneus would learn to grow familiar with these words. He would learn that there were many things which belonged to women, that simply could not be shared with men, could not be understood. And yet, this did not stop his wonder.

When she drew near, he felt that familiar rush, as though many waters poured through him. Warm and inviting.

Glad, she wished to keep him near.

Though you are strong, I will keep you safe, he promised. He had never walked with spirits, never seen them. He was a hunter, and this world was all he knew. The only spirit he had ever neared was Callyope herself, but even she was of this world, as much as she felt like someone from beyond.

Melaneus felt it, too, that pull towards each other, like moon and tide. He reached for her to draw her closer, to let her feel the earth one last time before she let herself drift between the stars. Just tell me what to do, he said softly, words only for her.

She had not known a gratefulness like this.

Momentarily she allowed herself the touch of his chest. Then just as swift she was away, ready to work. A near girlish look upon her face.

She had an area cleared for this where she had hidden the last of plant her mother had gave her. I...do not know what it will look like for you. Watching, I mean. She motioned gently for him to sit, while she unearthed a shallow hole with a pelt and unwrapped that to expose the last of the plant.

You must not take it. I may be away for some hours, but I will wake. For it had felt so much like sleep walking that she had not realized she was very much still awake for most of things!

Do you have worry in your heart, Dying Sun?

Cooed softly, alert now before she allowed herself to slip away with the plant's powers.

She pulled away too quickly, yet Melaneus cherished that small warmth they had shared. Stored this away too in the place held Rodyn’s promise of a place in Moonglow — yet let this secret moment steal even a little deeper.

She seemed a girl in this moment, and he felt much the boy he’d covered up with the armour of a manhood he didn’t quite fit. Yet this too was fleeting as she drew his attention to a small flower wrapped up in pelts with obvious care.

Nausea turned his belly.

As she explained the process, he considered the flower. Melaneus had never seen a plant like this, nor heard of one that had powers as she described. He knew, however, that there were plants for healing and plants for harming, and he did not trust the flower.

Yes, he confided. Where would she go? What would he see? How would she be when she appeared to him again? What if it did not work as it had before? What if she didn’t return? Yes, he repeated, more softly now. I do not trust the flower. Yet he settled in the snow and turned a gentle look upon her.

But I trust you, Asterioú.

He did not trust the flower, she nodded softly, understanding.

At one point she had not trusted it either. Too frazzled with nerves, too worried of what the world would be like when she had taken it. Mother had guided her then, now she must guide him. Reassure him and soothe him fully.

It is tradition. My mother has passed it on to me.

Her mother would not guide her down a path she was not fit for.

The plant will show me the things I must see, the plant is a connection to my spirits. Her ancestors! She must look for grey uncle upon this place and her bones softly ached with the knowledge.

Give me your worries.

She beckoned him closer once more. Prepared to press her forehead along his own, closing her eyes tightly.

I will bury your worries when I walk among spirits and waking dreams.

Sorry for taking so long!! Been travelling & with family! And also btw I love these two <3

Tradition. Passed on by her mother — undoubtedly learned from her mother, and her mother before. Brought down through history to this one girl before him, with her gentle eyes and her soft words, meant to reassure him.

Convinced, that she must do this, as much as his worry still burned.

He, give his worries to her? Melaneus hesitated - for her burdens should be his to bear, not the other way around! His shoulders were wide enough to carry both… but, perhaps, her spirit was stronger.

A moment pause.

And he pressed his forehead against hers, and allowed himself to feel his fear - of mother, of father, of Métis and Lycabas and Pyraetheus. Of death, of life, of darkness and light. Of Callyope and this path she walked. He exhaled a heavy sigh.

Do not carry them beyond the place that you will bury them, he said softly, for he knew their weight and knew they were many.

He would step away them and surrender himself to the waking land, curling up to keep quiet sentinel while his Starflower dreamed.

no sorries needed, always worth the wait!
feel free to timeskip to the morning or fade!! <3

He gave them freely and she placed them upon her shoulders like a shawl. Like a thing to be worn with pride in these moments. That she might take his burdens and burry them was a pride.

A humming began in her throat and she moved to began working with the plant. There was little need to make it a proper tea here when it would be just her walking into the other side for a time. So this would be a paste ingested this time. Rich and punchy from the start it felt.

This time she had a clue what to expected and she laid down upon the earth.

Eventually it would come for her.

---

The world was a harsh winter. The harshest she could fathom.

Yet there, in the whipping winds of a blizzard, she thought stood a large stone. A monolith, a testament to the power buried in the ground among her. How it loomed overhead so grandly was beyond her. Even more confusing was the way the world seemed to pulse beneath her.

Still she approached the stone without fear.

---

In the waking world her legs twitched, as if she meant to walk here too! Perhaps her body was trying to mimic the things she saw beyond. The way her eyelids fluttered frantically.

---

At the base of the grand stone, she dug deep into the frozen earth. Until the earth became richly red and her paws felt sore from all the work. Low to the earth she crouched, whispered into the divot she had created. "Angak." The pulse of the earth continued its hum beneath her. Rumbling with the makings of a bear. "The heart of Moonwoman holds you still."

The coldness of this world cut at her harsher now. Still fear did not grip her! Not until she pulled back from the hole in the earth. The stone seemed more like a wall now, rather than a pillar of strength to pull from now.

She ran! Off, off, off. Into a strong snowstorm that carried her far away from the stone that seemed to wish to keep her out now.

Here was an altar. Dusted in the snow of the storms, but seemingly tended to. It was there she laid upon with her exhaustion. "This girl asks the spirits to listen..." With the last of things that must be left! She wept with a ferocity upon the altar. Poured her heart and soul — and Dying Sun's! — out upon it.

"This girl asks for Dying Sun to be lifted, to have burdens and pains buried!"

Calling upon hazy memories in this distorted world.

---

Her limbs grew with a stiffness unbecoming her grace. There were convulsions for a moment or two. Then stilling.

She breathed still.

Lost to the vision.