Ouroboros Spine The time I knew what happiness was

He had not known the warmth of Kukutux' body for some nights now. Rarely did he visit her ulaq these nights and even so, it was to pass close but not to linger. Raimo felt abandoned; she did not want him, the daughter did not trust him, the rest of the village did not look upon him with any respect — and now Adrastus had returned to them carrying a tribute!

It was almost too much.

Raimo found comfort beneath the watching shine of stars; a clear dark sky hanging over him. The moon, waxing gibbous - not yet full, but growing. This night it was unusually cold, as if winter were rising from its sleep to reach for him.

kukutux saw.

she did not stop the leap of want in her chest; she went out in her shuffling way to raimo, and made her way painstakingly to his side. the starlight shone but her profile was for him. secondhunter. she had come to accept it, and now words carefully climbed to the tip of her tongue, waiting to be arranged and said aloud.

yet for now, the duck said nothing, bated breath revealing how she longed for him to simply look at her. not even with affection; only with recognition.

The yellow light cast by the moon, impartially formed as it was, still afforded a considerable amount of light. It cut across him and made the blackness of his shape all the more solid while likewise, reflecting from the moon-woman, made her stand out radiant beside him.

There was silence. The sound of steps came and went, leaving only their shared breathing. If he strained he could listen to the beat of her heart, she was so close. But he would not look at her. Childish of him, maybe. Easier to pretend he was alone.

the waiting stretched into an endless strait of snow. kukutux drew the breath that had until this moment remained steady; there was a hoarse pitch to the saddened edge. "ataniusik, raimo." he did not yet know her words and so would not understand, but the truth of it was in the way she held his title, caressed it.

"it is a hard thing, to desire the moon. you must come to accept that she will not always put her face upon you." some nights are dark. the pale ears wilted softly.

The silence broke to her magic, something invoked with a language he did not understand. His nearest ear slanted back as if to ward away an irritant; he breathed, gazing away.

Her eloquent way of speaking did not detract from the ache she caused him.

The moon desired me first. He quipped. In keeping with the theme of her words, it was easy to layer meaning upon his bitter tone. But maybe I am wrong. I am just the shadow, here.

She had Adrastus now to make her full, in whatever way that mattered.

"and she still has desire," kukutux quipped back, stung by the insinuation that she wished him no longer. but then again he had not come to her. she had not asked for him. let the two speak plainly now; the duck sorted through the sourness clinging to the end of his words. 

can we exist in a world, where we can both have what we want?

adrastus had said this thing to her, before kukutux had explained at length the ways of her people and the many ways in which their situation might be made clear. she wanted now to say this to raimo; she felt his insult and beneath her own reared a half-formed fear, that the shadow might fade from moonglow and thus from her.

the duck looked to the heavens now, seeking solace in the nightfall pour with its glittering lights.

Raimo heard her words but did not trust them. She had not asked him to visit the ulaq nor stopped him when he drifted by, which answered any doubts he harbored. Still, she was here now. Trying to manage his expectations and manipulate him - or so he thought.

He was more than bitter about it. Displaced by Adrastus and put aside by the others, these things Raimo could handle and work against. It was her dismissal of him that hurt the most.

The air is sharp and cold and he is alone, her light lending him no warmth. The stars glint overhead; he draws a breath again and relishes the taste of her there, the vaguest of warmths.

You were... my first, you know. He admitted, finally dropping his eyes down from the heavens. He is cast in full shadow - not even his brighter eye illuminated.

at first kukutux did not know what he meant, and then her jade-gaze cleared with understanding. her mother had spoken of such, of the widows who welcomed young hunters into manhood. was she such, now? the thought struck the flint of chaos within her; the duck attempted to piece together each reaction raimo had given, and thereby know how she might speak to him.

she did not reach to the shadowhunter, as much as she ached to do so; the feathermoon remained silent and aloof, aside from him even as her form cried out for his arms. she could not see his gaze now, all of him drenched in the darkness. 

"your touch means that i am free," she said softly. "but not from what moonglow must have to make itself strong." that was the gist of it. kukutux hoped raimo would begin to understand.

He wanted to say more, to share some piece of himself. A piece of story, maybe, or truth; but she segued things back to how it affected her. What it made of her. Did she not think of him at all in this? Beyond the physical lust they shared of one another Raimo began to doubt further connection.

If separating from him was necessary to make Moonglow strong, who was he to stand in the way of things? That was answer enough from her. This was not his goal, though. Raimo did not want to talk of the politics of their village or the effect of their lovemaking in her grieving process.

That's all he was to her, so far as he could surmise. Not the hero — just a stepping stone, a tool to be used and then put away when done.

Adrastus is a good choice. Your children will be strong.

His jaw tensed as he grimaced in the dark.

kukutux felt her mouth well metallic as teethtips snipped into her own jawline; raimo's words had engendered a sinking morass of emotion within her still-raw spirit. she wished to say it was for the good of moonglow; she wished to assure him of his place in their land. all words. only words. empty words.

she found that she had nothing. "it is a wife he wants. i cannot be that. it does not matter what happens when the — when i am malikatâk." unwilling to pine for his touch while he continued to withhold it, kukutux pushed herself upright, staring at the tense arch of a throat she had kissed a dozen times.

the moon began to turn away.

He still did not understand, but maybe he was not meant to. She was confounding; clearly they wanted one-another on some physical level but she would deny him, choosing the likes of Adrastus instead of solidifying Raimo's position. She weakened him. All that he had been working to build here was at-odds with Kukutux' beliefs, and he had to wonder if it was all worth it.

Raimo was silent; he could not speak to her without the burn in his throat now, knowing his temper would get the better of him if he tried. He heard her but he was miles away.

Could he be with her, if it was only to satisfy her on a physical level? He had never heard the term consort before but that would have been the closest term for it. She did not love him; her love was for the dead, a fact he could not deny. She did not exalt him for his work, having given away his position to another.

So what did that leave him but bitterness? This was not how the story was supposed to go. The hero was supposed to get the girl and live happily thereafter.

Her eyes were on him. He bristled, turning away so that those eyes burned in to the back of his head. He began to prowl away from her but only went a few steps. Distance was the last thing he wanted but if she wasn't going to choose him, openly and to refute all doubt before the others, what was the point of anything.

was this what the wolves of the teekon meant when they spoke the word love? the sentiment blazed in kukutux beyond control, shredding the inner wrap of her veins as raimo turned away from her? what this what they shared together? she had chosen for no other reason but tusuk, and now it had returned to bite along her spine.

was this the danger when one made a choice not grounded in responsibility, only in emotion? she had uncovered her spirit before the shadow. she longed for him to see the place where he had lightened forever her heart. but he did not. and knowing that she was the cause of why he stood motionless and back to her — it harmed the duck, stole air-currents from beneath her wings.

had she made a mistake? why had adrastus embraced her customs so readily; but raimo had embraced her, and she could not separate the two. 

weeping, now; it wanted to rise upon her but kukutux held it back save for a tear quickly veiled. "i am your moon." mournful furling in her throat that she could and did not stop. 

in each way she meant it; shamed and anguished, the spinewolf too moved away in her hitching gait.

you must do what is right for moonglow.

i told you that i would do also what is right for me.

no more words. unless halted, kukutux melded herself with the greening terrain and was gone.