Ouroboros Spine up with the trees

maybe @Kannoyak?

Some of his initial distress had begun to fade. He had but two feathers left to distribute, and with the winding down of his journey's purpose, he felt a certain sense of accomplishment and ease.

He was almost done. Then he could do what he wanted, even if it took some time to figure out what that was. He could linger here as long as he needed in order to find out what might come of this thing between himself and Callyope.

He lingered near Moonglow, always hoping to see her again. Today he brought a fresh ramskin along with him, hoping for an excuse to talk with someone. It was folded and draped bloodily over his shoulders as he tip-toed around the edges of the territory, which his scent had since become commonplace.

It was a curious thing to find areas of Moonglow familiar. It had been many months since Kannoyak had walked their land, prowled the rugged stones of the spine. Things had changed, of course. He picked up on various scents that had not belonged to the moon village when he had last been there. The cotton grass man knew that he must work their borders until these aromas became commonplace.

On such a journey, Kannoyak saw a handsome figure draped in a thick fur. The cotton grass man approached with confident steps. His plum eyes were bright upon the pelt that the other wolf wore.

Greetings, hunter. This one is pleased to see your face.

Again, Kannoyak used the customary greeting of the moon wolves.

Soot-smudged ears stood up and then laid low before settling somewhere in the middle; the sound of the man's voice had flustered him, as had the greeting he was still growing used to. He turned with his tail wheeling weakly at his hocks — something that was corrected with enthusiasm as he set eyes on a friendly face.

"Hail," he replied, bemused by the strange way of speech but already assessing the man as a suitor for his sister. He would make a fine husband, by all appearances! "I — this one, that is to say — greets you. I am White Elk."

He was different from Callyope. They looked as though they could be siblings, but he understood instinctively that they were not. Their speech was not quite the same.

"What is your name?" he asked, eager to get to know the man.

White Elk, Kannoyak repeated the name, voice reverent. The pale hunter considered this to be a good moniker for a wolf. It brought to mind many moonlit nights spent in fevered pursuit of the swift ungulates. This is a good name for a man.

When asked for his own, the white wolf lifted his snout proudly and allowed his dark lips to curl into a smile. The edges of his plum gaze crinkled.

This man is called Kannoyak.

It was not considered a great feat, but White Elk had already won the favors of the pale northerner. Perhaps it was longing for companionship, or the impressive fur that the other man wore upon his frame.

Moonwoman calls this man cotton grass hunter. Something that Kannoyak had grown fond of.

For this, White Elk did not share that he'd been named after his grandmother, Elkheart. He was pleased to be told so all the same, however, and failed to hide the slight simper of pleasure the words evoked.

He stood a little taller himself.

"And so is Kannoyak," he declared, having never heard this name before but believing it all the same. "For what reason does she call you this?" And why did he not have a name from her? "Do you know her well?"

They must be friends; there was surely no call for jealousy. Not unless this man also had his eye on Callyope. But, truthfully, White Elk saw no signs that he was less than deserving of such a woman. Perhaps he was the greater prize, and the one that would be chosen. Could he take this in stride?

"I am a friend of Callyope," he said, testing this theory.

Yes, yes, Moonwoman is dear to this man - a friend. She says cotton grass hunter because this is the meaning of Kannoyak - cotton grass.

The pale man’s name did not belong to the common tongue. He did not need to inquire about White Elk, for it was a name that needed no further definition. Something about that was pleasing to the northerner. He liked the simplicity, the knowing without having to inquire. Though there may have been more depth to White Elk’s calling, it did not need elaboration.

At the mention of another, Kannoyak’s head tilted and he drew his ears to a point.

Hm. This one may have hunted with Callyope. She is one of the Moonwoman’s children?

When he looked at the man again, White Elk thought he might see what he'd looked like as a child. Cotton grass was something a mother might call a child — but he found it still suited the man before him. Especially in that tongue. Kannoyak. It was a strong-sounding word.

"A good name," he reiterated, oddly pleased with it.

He was flustered then when he got his answer. Flustered, but his question was answered — he could not begrudge this man his happiness anymore than he could begrudge Callyope hers. Oh, he would fight for her still! Newly, he was determined to do so. But if Kannoyak won her affections, he could only shake his hand.

"She is," he replied with a wag of his tail. "Large and pale with gold-tipped ears and a gold-smudged nose." The most beautiful girl in the world, he did not say, but it was clear in his tone and the wheel of his tail. "I have brought this pelt as a gift for her — but I do not know if she treats them."

Ah, yes! We have hunted. She is swift and sure.

The compliments were genuine, though for the reasons that White Elk suspected. Kannoyak did not have eyes for the woman he had hunted with. She was a lovely thing, yes. He had only met her once and did not have a foundation for further feelings to develop. When the other man mentioned that he had brought the fur for her, the cotton grass hunter glowed.

Come, come, White Elk. Let us see if the moongirl can be found. This fur will be a great gift. It will be favored, Kannoyak is sure.

The pale man swung his snout in invitation. He would cut a path across Moonglow and assist the pleasant man with finding his desired company.

Flustered again! He was not quite sure he was ready to present the pelt to her in company! Did the man mean to make a spectacle of him? But it was not truly in his nature to think such things of other men, so he decided to trust Kannoyak after all.

He had other things on his mind, soon enough.

"Have you been here long?" he asked, trying to gauge the man's position in the lives of the moon wolves. He was a good friend of moonwoman's, but he didn't know Callyope? It seemed a little odd, albeit not in any way that left the clueless man suspicious. "I am new to the area — I could use a friend to show me around."

For even if they did end up adversaries, the herald found himself hoping they might still be more. He liked the cotton grass hunter.

White Elk asked about how long Kannoyak had been in the area. The pale man thought it a bit complicated. His features furrowed in thought as he considered how he might respond. When the other man noted that he could use a friend to show him around, the plum-eyed wolf took delight in it.

This man hunted with the moon wolves for several seasons. Then traveled to the north to hunt with the village in the snow.

Moonglow had called him back. Kannoyak had carried memories of his friends in the Teekon Wilds. He had thought of them and wished for their wellbeing. Returning to familiar terrain had given him much relief and he would not be so ready to depart again.

Kannoyak will show White Elk. As friends. The cotton grass man smiled to his companion again.