Shadowwyn Moor [m] māmila

the den was bathed in the pale light of early morning, soft rays filtering through the cracks in its earthen walls. the scent of caribou furs mingled with the cool bite of winter, but the warmth of @Sun Eater’s body beside her chased away any lingering chill. morwenna stirred slowly, her eyes blinking open to find him still at her side, his steady breathing a comfort she had grown to cherish.

a faint smile tugged at her lips as she nestled closer, her silver coat brushing against the dark expanse of his chest. her nose trailed softly up his neck, her breath warm against his fur, before she pressed a tender kiss to his chin. he was hers, and she was his, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

sun eater, she murmured, her voice low and still laced with the remnants of sleep. her head tilted, resting against his broad shoulder as she traced the line of his jaw with her gaze. her eyes held a quiet warmth as she let the words that had been lingering in her heart slip free.

i want to know... she asked softly, her tone carrying both curiosity and hope. what does lanzadoii man want in children? does he pray for boys? girls? she had no control over their genders, but she could pray.

her voice was light, playful even, but there was a deeper longing beneath her words. she shifted slightly, her tail brushing against his leg as she waited for his answer, the morning stillness wrapping around them like a second skin.

he was not certain he had ever been asked. with gheli, the man who once was cen — any children born would have been welcomed in warmth and in love, two sensations most often devoid from his spirit these long days. they might have worn her eyes and his face, or perhaps some co-mixture. but they would have been part of gheli, and for that alone could cen have loved them.

with red leaf, he had expected that the tribulations he had undergone to take her as wife and then to keep her alive would have ensured strong children. he had forsaken the path of the caribou and taken her to the village beside the sea; he had sacrificed and sacrificed and she had given him a boy injured by her own weakness.

a single son, and one for whom he too had striven to bring back. 

he did not like lying in dens; he told himself that once he and morwenna returned unto the saatsine, he would not sleep inside one again. but her body was warm and curved against his; the femininity of her gestures stilled him, roused him. "tiy. many," the chieftain told his new wife with a soft-spreading grin that soon became sharp at the edges. "while you carry them, we walk. i hunt for you. when almost it is time, i build shelter of snow. saatsine make long-camp."

timed right, lanzadoii mothers were fed a steady diet of newborn caribou, for it was believed that this tenderest flesh provided the richest fare for milk. lanzadoii children would be weaned onto chewed organ meat, and in eight weeks, be prepared for their own first march.

many children were the only way to ensure that the majority of pups followed their clans when the shelters had come down and the caribou were moving once more.

morwenna smiled softly at his words, a warmth blooming in her chest at the thought of children—many children—born from their union. her eyes softened as she gazed at her husband, his sharp grin and proud stature filling her with a deep sense of reassurance.

there will be many. she murmured, the certainty in her tone clear. her voice was steady, touched with an affection she reserved only for him. with you, me, they will thrive.

shifting gently, morwenna began to rise, her lithe frame stretching as she moved to her paws. she leaned in close, her muzzle brushing his with tender purpose, her lips pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. the act was delicate, almost reverent, and lingered just long enough to speak what words could not.

as she stepped back slightly, her gaze found his again, curiosity dancing in its depths. i would like most nights to be like this, she admitted, a flicker of playfulness curving her lips. us, if it could be so.

her head tilted, an invitation laced within her question, as if she knew he could not refuse her. i would like to learn lanzadoii. afterall— i hold your name.

then, a small sliver of her own hope: it will be easier to teach our pups if we both speak it.

"many nights. not all," he said with quiet clarity. "you share me with caribou. until your time," he added more cunningly, sliding his own claws up along the swell of her breastbone and down over the taut belly.

he joined her upon limbs then, circling morwenna to tug at pelt with teasing teeth; he came away from their shelter and stretched his legs in the cold and open air. "then i yours again. we go away from saatsine longer." as chieftain he had not taken his seven days with the starbound; as husband in an icy spring, he meant to take each hour as an individual possession.

"i teach. ice diver will also teach." always moving, the herds followed by the sun clan were prodigious, and he led morwenna up onto a small rise above them. "udzih," he breathed. "first word to know is caribou." a paw lifted toward a large bull with sharp tines protruding from the middle of his forehead. "you say, he have c'ede' ghatggehi. 'antler that is between.'"

a sly shrug. "maybe good name for a new son."

morwenna followed him, the crisp air biting gently at her nose as she stepped into the open. her silver eyes lingered on him as he stretched, the faint shimmer of dawn reflected in their depths. the northern words felt strange yet familiar on her tongue, like rediscovered memories from a distant dream. the cadence and shape of his language bore similarities to her own, and she took to the practice with ease, murmuring the phrases softly under her breath.

udzih, she echoed, her voice low and measured as she took in the sight of the bull he indicated. c'ede' ghatggehi, she repeated, her silver gaze flicking to sun eater for approval, the faintest curve of pride pulling at her lips.

when he mentioned the possibility of a son, her laughter was smooth and light, like a brook carving through ice. a strong name, she said, her tone playful but touched with sincerity. though we might have to wait to see if the antlers suit him.

she shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his as her gaze returned to the herd below. you share me with caribou, she teased, her voice holding a trace of mirth. but i think the caribou will grow jealous of the time you take to teach me.

despite her jest, there was a quiet reverence in her movements, a respect for the life he had brought her into. teach me more, she urged, eager to take in the world as he saw it, eager to grow closer to him in ways that transcended language.

"udzih 'udaaxe neket'aats'," sun eater murmured, charmed by how easily morwenna took to his own words. "the caribou leave, go down river, come back." of course its translation would be more adapted in lanzadoii, but now there was hope in him that she would truly learn.

"the caribou know you learn," he said with a rare tenderness, tail flagging in proud height as he nuzzled the curve of her throat, nipped the roundness of her shoulder. "they wait to give welcome."

he did not move away; he mingled their breath in a slow wakening kiss that sent his blood into a simmer. "you are yikaas k'edghildza'. star of first dawn. sun that lives first in the sky."

and through this he cleverly preserved his own origin, burying hatred of the sunshine people into the promise-name of his sun clan wife. warring suns, but saatsine would eat nuiruk. their children would taste the blood of the moon.

the words fell heavy, rhythmic, from his tongue, and morwenna's silver eyes flickered, catching the weight they carried. she let them roll over her, through her, their meaning sinking into the marrow of her being. udzih 'udaaxe neket'aats', she repeated softly, each syllable tentative but deliberate. she would master them, as she would master this new life.

his voice, low and rare in its tenderness, stirred something deep within her. they must be patient. the pride in his tone, the way his tail lifted high with conviction—it made her breath hitch. her lips parted slightly, ready to speak again, but his nuzzle against her throat silenced her. she felt his teeth graze her shoulder, and a quiet hum of approval escaped her.

yikaas k'edghildza', she repeated after him, her voice firm despite the softness of the words. it is beautiful. the meaning unfurled in her mind like a bloom, and she clung to it, savoring its beauty and depth. her name, this name, tasted of fire and beginnings, of promise and power. she would wear it proudly, as he intended.

she met his gaze, her silver eyes steady, the corners of her lips lifting into a small, determined smile. is this who i am now? she asked, the question more for herself than for him. but she already knew the answer. she belonged here, in his world, under his name.

leaning closer, she pressed her nose against his, her voice lowering into a whisper as she repeated her new name once more, letting it settle, letting it claim her. yikaas k'edghildza'.

"yes," sun eater murmured as morwenna accepted the lengthy lanzadoii title. it was their way; their words flowered into running water sentences as much as the rest of their speech.

he remained close because he was able, entitled; he breathed in her own breaths and gave his own as she whispered. "is beautiful like you are," he uttered clumsily, for he had never been a creature of sentimentality even as a husband.

a lie. with gheli, cen had been unrecognizable. now here,  glimpse of it; his lips coursing in a tease over her earlobe and the side of her face, exhale warming the roots of hair along her throat; he was starved for the softer contact only his wife offered, and drank her thankfully in as they stood above the caribou.

"maybe yikaas for others who not speak lanzadoii. easier. or make them say yikaas k'edghildza. all."

in his name and in her own she would be commanding, and suddenly bright in his gaze was need of another kind. this time sun eater did not care who might come upon them. only the caribou spirits need bear witness.

she agreed, her voice low but steady. it is mine.

his touch, the graze of his lips and the heat of his breath against her skin, sent a shiver down her spine, though she held herself still, resolute. this closeness was something she had come to cherish, an intimacy that felt both new and ancient. she turned slightly, nuzzling into his touch, her own breath warm against his fur.

let them say it all, she murmured, a quiet defiance in her tone, a smile ghosting her lips. let them know the weight of who i am, and who i am with you.

her gaze lingered on him, reading the intent burning in his eyes, the pull of something raw and unyielding. she did not shy away, her own expression softening as she leaned into him, her voice a gentle whisper against his ear.

we are watched by the spirits, she said, not as a warning, but as a quiet acknowledgment of their place in the great weave of the world. let them see.

she was his, was his. sun eater grew heated in his ministrations, encouraged by her whispering, by the blissful curvature of her tall figure against his own. he teased the rein upon them both for a roughening time, until he did not see fit to wait any longer.

pleasure; a coldwater plunge for them both. his teeth at her nape; his breath billowing the heat of a wildfire down her starfire spine.

he whetted them both with harder punctuation this time, a hard growl signifying the end. the beginning.

"yikaas k'edghildza," and sun eater watched her there in the snow with a look upon his face he had never worn for a single living being.

she melted beneath him like frost meeting the first light of spring, every touch an ignition, every growl a tether pulling her deeper into the storm that was her husband. her breath came in soft, shivering wisps, her body pliant and humming with the remnants of his claim. she knew no god other than the one before her, and she worshipped him utterly.

sun eater, her voice was a quiet ripple, filled with reverence and affection that bordered on adoration. she turned her gaze upon him, aglow with a warmth that could rival any sun. her smile, subtle yet radiant, curved across her lips as she drank him in, a man forged by the heavens themselves.

every fiber of her being was his, as it always had been. his touch was etched into her soul like a signature upon parchment, and she reveled in it, treasured it. he had made her k’edghildza in truth, and she would remain his, steadfast and unyielding as the mountains.

her tail swept the snow in a languid rhythm as she pressed her forehead to his broad chest, listening to the steady thunder of his heartbeat. she tilted her head back, tracing the lines of his face, memorizing each shadow and light.

shall we linger, or shall we hunt? her tone was playful, a breathless tease, though the flush in her cheeks spoke of contentment that only he could bring. she was smitten, utterly and irrevocably, and it was written in every movement, every word, every stolen glance.

wanna fade and have a new one? <3

"hunt," sun eater rumbled to his star woman. he lingered however; he set his chin between her ears and held her for a moment against the gallop of his feral heart.

there was no hope of taming sun eater, but already he had been slightly gentled by her inexorable trust, the shine of her devotion. his pulse thudded; he thought madly of her sides swelling in spirit-blessing with children who would only ever been lanzadoii.

she did not detract from him; he saw instead the way k'edghildza meant to enhance, a gossamer silvering over the beloved snow. and it was for this that she received the only softnesses still existent in sun eater. she alone.

so enthralled he was with her and the warmth of her body that sun eater could scarce imagine how addled he might be when her time came.

with hunger came lust; first they would share blood. he wished to see her sated on caribou before they came together again, and led the way up along the snow toward another endless band of their lifeblood quarries.