Ouroboros Spine [m] i’m in the trees, i’m in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground

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Something in her had changed with meeting Wilwarin. And it wasn’t the new mental turmoil that seeing her had spawned.

Fire burned beneath her skin, an awakening that stretched like a panther and hummed in the back of her head. Her fire time, the same that had wrenched her head towards her husband last year. Twice as strong this year, she felt, but perhaps it was a display of her singularity.

She had told her children before now that she may have to leave, just for a little while, but now that it was here she did not want to step away from them. Vairë’s chest clenched, but she remained strong as she swept out of the village. Unbidden, her thoughts went to @Valiant , though she did not call for him. It was untoward, in her eyes, for her to seek him out so soon. It was as anaa said, she must be certain now. Certainty was hard to come by, so she walked her way to the very edge of the village, standing on its fringes.

She would walk until she reached Uggungak Repose, where she would linger for a while. It was nice here, draped in snow, the distant knowledge of the deer herd on the hills, and despite the itch of her feet, renewed from her girlhood, she lingered beneath a bough of trees right on the border. Uncertainty nipped at her heels and despite the flush of her body, she paused.

She stood, statuesque, letting snow pile on her shoulders.

He knew the scent at once. When he woke that day, he laid for a long time with his eyes shut and his body lax and boneless, breathing deep breaths of a scent that would always remind him of the safety and belonging he'd felt in White Spine, and of the joy and togetherness of the fertility festivals of Round Valley. It was intertwined today with the sweeter scent of Vairë, who he did not expect to call for him.

It was too soon. And in a way, they were already too late. Next year, maybe, if he was her choice at all. He could be patient, but he mourned the growing sense of opportunity and anticipation that'd filled him since he'd first breathed in Ariadne's heat.

He was happy here. He had to keep that in mind. He was happy here, and he didn't need anything more to stay happy. He had too much already to be grateful for.

But you could be happier, a voice whispered. You could be happier, and so could she.

He thought about the day they'd stood together talking about the names of distant, dreamed-of children. Of a family they both wanted, even if it was not yet clear whether Vairë wanted it with him. Something in him had still moved in that conversation. A shiver of possiblity that'd turned into an avalanche of hope and desire.

When he finally stood, it was with his limbs already tensed to run. He found her trail and followed it outward, not dwelling on what this direction might mean. He only slowed when her trail threaded through the forest's edge, but he'd caught his breath by the time he reached her. He still breathed deep, savoring the burn her scent evoked in him.

He sat beside her, leaving a yard or so between them. Looked out at the valley, as if searching for whatever held her attention.

"Are you going out?" he asked her, his Rose gold gaze traveling back to her face. His uncertainty showed, but his tone was free of judgement.

The silence of the world draped in snow invaded all of her senses, and for a time, she simply was. Wafted in cold, dressed in scent like a cloak around her throat. Ruby red, she thought, filigree gold threading about her throat. Regal, royal, a black, spire topped crown upon her brow. Then, she shook away the daydream. Vairë was far from royal.

Her breath huffed into a white cloud against the sunless sky, white sticking to her eyelashes. An inhale, before it came out as a high eep! of a noise when Valiant’s voice reached her. Her throat bobbed in a lizard-esque method of pure bafflement as she swung her head to face the ice bear. She tried her best to appear unruffled by his appearance.

Ah-I was thinking of it. Her voice sounded breathless, and she winced to hear it.

Apologies. I guess I was so busy thinking I didn’t hear you approach. The doe threw in a little chuckle, though it sounded more like a balloon deflating.

The isbjørn dipped his head in understanding. He knew how much she thought, even if he couldn't pretend to know just what went on in that head of hers.

But he thought he might know just a little, today.

He lowered himself to his belly, so that he would not be tempted to lean closer.

"I been thinkin' a whole lot, too," he replied, gravel apparent in his tone despite his best efforts to swallow it down. "Long before this day. But now we gotta make decisions, if it ain't too forward to say. And I can't speak on what would be best. I'd trust you, if you wanna tell me goin' out is what's right. I trust you a whole lot."

His spine felt tight. He tried to relax, but there was still some strain in his voice when he next spoke. Not because of her season, but because these were words that frightened him still, despite all his trust.

"I can't tell you what's best," he went on, "But if you wanna know what I think — and I think that you do, so I won't wait for you to ask. I think we'd do real good together, Vai. And I think you're scared not 'cause of what we'd be like together, but because you're afraid it's gonna end. I think that 'cause I'm scared for the same reasons."

His voice was hoarse and strained as he spoke past the lump on his throat.

"But I trust you," he said. "And you can trust me. So whatever you're thinkin' — if you wanna go out or if you wanna stay in, or if you want me — " His voice cracked on the word. It was painful to suggest such a thing. "I'm sayin' that I trust you. And we'll still end up wherever we ought to, whatever that might look like. I'll be here and you'll be here. But Vairë — " His mouth did not want to shape these words. As long as he didn't speak them, she could not refute them. Once they were in the open, she was free to wield them against him, these knives that he'd sharpened himself.

But he said it.

"I do want you," he said. "I wanna have it all with you."

He gazed up at her, rose gold eyes intent and unflinching.

For a great stretch when Valiant’s words ended, the doe was silent. A glance upwards would show she was wide eyed, struck dumb by the sincerity he seemed to wield so effortlessly.

I’m not worth this, everyone leaves me, don’t you know? the harsh jumble of her own emotions bit bitterly at her heart, at her mind, at the corners of her eyes where tears wished to form. She did not say these things, but her jaw worked as if it wanted to. Vairë had experienced a thousand things in life, a sweet talker was nothing. Her previous husband, her mother, her sister, all of them said things so sweetly but never meant them to her. But Valiant did, the sincerity in his voice was so real she could almost taste it on her tongue. Her throat clicked when she tried to swallow.

I’m not worth this, there’s something wrong, everyone always leaves. Will you leave too? What will I do when you do? A brush of beige fur against her shoulder.

This one, hummed old doe, means his words. If he does not, you drive him from the herd. You make things so difficult, girl.

Delicate paws, drifting, dancing, crossing the snow with intent until she stood right in front of him, expression vulnerable, the pain of a thousand comings and goings written into every line, every twitch, every expression.

Then, it broke into a tremulous smile.

I want you too. It was a simple thing to utter, despite the flush it brought, something more innocent than the deeper flame beneath her skin.

Ever since you indulged in conversation about baby names, of all things. I am trusting you with this, setting her heart in his hands, bruised and battered thing though it was, please don’t break it.

When the words were out, Valiant felt — lighter? Empty? Torn asunder? He didn't know it then, but he'd lost more than he'd bargained for in this short conversation. A thing he would never get back, placed trustingly in Vairë's paws.

But not blindly. Not thoughtlessly. Because while his feelings for Vairë were strong, he knew that his resolve was stronger. He knew that her good sense would guide her true. They both thought too much about things, and worried too much, and feared so much as well —

But maybe, just with each other, they could start to let go. Or to hold on, as they'd so rarely allowed themselves, always fearing the tug of someone pulling away, the fraying of the edges of supposedly unbreakable bonds. He trusted her. So he did not think about it then — about how, if that trust was broken, he would never trust again.

He held still until her words rolled over him like a summer storm, and his instincts urged him to act, then, but he took her tenderly in his arms just to hold her. Just so that they could lean against one another, solid and sure. For all that he was elated, for all that he wanted to feel giddy, the weight of the moment struck him sober and serious, even as relief made his heart soar.

"I'd be lyin' if I said I ain't been picturin' 'em," he said, a breathless laugh in his voice. He pulled back just enough to press his muzzle to her cheek. "What do you wanna do about it?" he asked her.

She was swept into his strong embrace, and her answer was a breathless laugh, wrapping herself up in him. Vairë tucked her nose against his shoulder, letting her eyes fall closed. That hurt animal in her chest curled content beside the fire, finally safe from the storm.

Old Doe snorted, and left. She pulled her head back to look Valiant in his eyes, flicking her gaze from one to the other in uncertainty of which one to look into. Her lips cracked around a smile, and she chuckled to herself.

I am ready to be anaa again. A curious spark in her eye, turning to a glowing ember of want that she shoved into the bottom of her stomach.

If you do not mind, that is.

He is sure, he is certain, he will not leave. she told herself, enough times to try and make it true.

Her soft voice, her breath on his cheek — it was the breeze that finally stoked him to fire. His hold on her tightened, and he felt clumsy in his desire for her. His breath caught as he caught himself, and then he was well enough arrested by the look in her eyes.

"Mind?" he repeated, incredulous. He rose, crowing into the embrace in a manner reminiscent of their play in the hotsprings. His smile, too, was as bright and mischievous as it had been that day. "How 'bout you'n'me get to work, and I'll show you just how much I mind."

He did not feel the need to handle her body so carefully as he handled her heart — but despite any talk on the contrary, he had proven himself unable to be rough with her. It was all talk, all pretend, and the heat in his gaze was ardent, adoring, pleading.

His crowing laugh startled her for a moment, a deer like flinch from an aborted but graceful exit. But, the moment was over quickly enough, and she found herself laughing with him, her shoulders shaking with it. It was a deep sort of belly laugh, the kind that leaves your legs wobbly and your chest shaking.

But maybe it was his words more than anything that made her legs wobble. She pulled away from his embrace if only for a moment, where she danced a short circle, appraising, teasing. She stopped in front of him again, breathless.

I would say.. The click of ivory teeth.

Show me what you’ve got, Val.

The years melted away. Valiant pursued her with a dogged, single-minded energy, none of his usual misgivings able to penetrate this tunnel vision. His heart may well as have never been broken, never known loneliness, never forgot how it was meant to be used.

He teased them both, the way that they always seemed to play, each pretending contention that did not truly exist between them. It was not fight for dominance so much as it was affection — tracing the curve of her mind with the same relish as when he drew the curve of her hip with his nose. Cherishing, marveling at her wit and her mettle in a way that, for a while, felt as intimate as fitting her back to his chest.

He didn't say it. Not yet. But every move he made thrummed with the strength of a promise and the vulnerability of a confession.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

He came to her on paws years lighter than he, as though they were nothing but playful nymphs, delighting in a simple game of tag. The doe nimbly spun, drawing out the game for as long as she could stand it. Their game of hunt and chase was over before it started.

The quarry wanted to be caught.

Laughing as he drove for her, Vairë’s heart splintered into a wide mural of her hurts, letting them be laid bare, and finding a sympathetic symphony in the man before her. She did not know the lengths of abandonment to Valiant matched her own, maybe even surpassed it, but she was pleased to find someone who seemed to know her name.

Love welled from the cracks in her bruised, battered heart.

Doe moved in lockstep with the bear, the eyes of the starry matron of her totem approving before old doe stepped away.