Ouroboros Spine like the breaking of glass

Raimo carried with him an antler he had found. It had been discarded closer to the glen limits than the mountain, but someone else had found it and dragged it to the spine to abandon it.

The curve of its shape was an odd thing to spy during his patrol and when he had gone out to investigate it, he decided to bring it back with him.

His aim to keep busy and away from the recovering refugees was working out fine for now. He did not like the smell of them even on the outskirts. He did not like that their supplies went to aid them, or their food. Their numbers rivaled those of Moonglow and he worried that they might try to take what he had built out from under him.

This was not something Raimo would tolerate. He would work to bring this antler as a gift to the moon or the star, whoever he should see first, and make an effort to understand why these strangers were upon the mountain — but it was slow going, with the weight of the crown causing the tines to dig in to the soil, or hook at branches like a shepherd's crook.

As it turned out, a few weeks of rest were exactly what Lane's infected paw had needed. She felt good today. The warmth of the morning sun shone warmly upon her back, a silent promise of the long-awaited springtime. It stood to chance that Lane was not the only living being who had been coaxed out of hibernation by the sun; on this morning, the young botanist was in search of herbs. Perhaps she would find a few shoots of spring's earliest bloomers. 

It was not her intention to harvest, of course. Even if these lands had belonged to her pack-- which they didn't-- it was too early for that anyway. Lane was merely scouting, assuming that with Kukutux's injury, the moonwoman would not have had an opportunity to do so herself. The Vitale was itching for something to do. Some way to be of use. Lane had gratefully accepted Moonspear's kind hospitality for long enough to heal, but now it was time to start pulling her weight and repaying her own debt as well as that of her packmates. 

Lane came across some divots in the ground, and she cocked her head in recognition. She knew it was an antler-- she used one herself to make similar marks in the soil when she was tilling a garden. Lane followed the tracks, which made a beeline inward toward the Spine. Soon she came upon the Moospear man, struggling to tug the enormous crown through the various entanglements which slowed him down. She gave a soft woof to attract his attention, then wagged her tail amicably. She would approach and see if she could lend a hand, if he seemed open to her company.

The sound of the bez tines catching in the earth distracted him from all others, even as a sweeping wind pulsed through the eaves of the trees; but when he stopped for a breath and could hear only the thundering of his overworked heart, Raimo finally had a moment to collect himself. The half-set of antler had been dragged deep against the soil so that it stood on its own and no manner of tugging would free it, which meant Raimo had to stop, relax, and think. It was then that he heard the voice of another — a simple alerting sound that drew his eye, his mouth open in a garish display of panting.

He did not recognize this wolf at first. The sight of the stranger caused a ripple effect of anxiety through him. She was not much to look at: a mess of autumn shades clinging to a thin figure, bright-eyed and young. The wag of her tail wasn't hard to miss, nor was the shy approach as she ventured towards the curve of his prize.

You are one of the refugees, he remembered abruptly, although the memory did not cleanse his look of reproach. You should be with them, Raimo pointed out. Your people stay in their own place beneath the mountain. It was not meant as an insult but the monotone of Raimo's voice could have been misconstrued easily.

Whoa. Lane had expected that the Glen refugees were welcomed by some of the moonwolves more than others, but Raimo's obvious attempt to teach her her place threw Lane. His attitude seemed to clash with the intentions that Kukutux had expressed.

"We are all survivors," Lane reminded him, trying not to sound too defensive. They had all been displaced by the rockslide on the mountain last moon. The only reason that the Glen wolves were refugees and the moonwolves were hosts was that the moonwolves had managed to organize themselves enough to pee in few places around the Spine. That didn't seem to warrant the superiority complex vibe she was getting from Antler Man, here. 

"We're one people," she elaborated, "Moonspear and Firefly Glen were sisterpacks. We shared a free border policy before the disaster.."  At this point, Lane's confidence wavered. Perhaps the rules were different, now that the border had moved? Lane was unfamiliar with the all complex minutia of pack policy. She was little more than a gypsy, after all.

The information was worthwhile, and he tucked it somewhere safe to study later. Raimo knew that the refugees were friends to Kukutux but not to the extent of being sister-bonded; the stranger spoke of Moonspear and of the Glen as if they were steeped in history, and Raimo was curious of this. He did not know much about the relationship and nobody who had survived felt the need to explain it to him, which he presumed was part of the moon-woman's grief and customs surrounding her loss.

He was quiet a moment as he thought these things over. It would serve him well to know where Moonglow came from; to hear of Kukutux' people in more depth without disturbing her for the tale. All he knew of Moonspear had come to him sparingly as a child — his family had once visited the Teekons and brought tales back to him of mighty warriors, dragons of the seaside, and mountain queens. To say he was bitter about finding this place after the mountain's demise was an understatement.

This could be remedied if he played his cards right.

I did not know. He explained finally. I came to this place when the star fell to the mountain. In the weeks since there have been no survivors except your people, and nobody speaks of any connection. He shrugs his shoulders as he speaks. Did you know much about the mountain? Moonspear?

This thread is really dated, so I'm going to edit in a conclusion and wrap it up. Feel free to open it back up if you want to continue. 

 

The man was difficult to read, but Lane thought she detected shift in attitude. This was confirmed when he spoke again, admitting to his mistake. He offered an excuse instead of an apology, but Lane had come to expect that kind of thing by now, especially from men. Wolves-- male wolves especially-- could be such touchy, proud creatures. Lane imagined that if she offered to help him with that antler, he would try to tell her that it was actually his intention to stick it in the ground like that, or some other bullshit. 

Her people. Lane wanted to correct him, but she kept quiet. Firefly Glen weren't her people.. she had only intended to stay with them a few days...

Who was she really kidding, at this point? She'd been with the Glen wolves several moons longer than expected-- long enough to survive not one, but two disasters, if you counted the bear attack. Lane might as well consider herself initiated. 

"Well, our leader, Antares... his mother was the leader on the mountain." How was that for a connection? "Kukutux is, uh, also related.." Lane was unsure exactly how. She was Antares's aunt or something, right? "The Moonspear leader was killed by the star--" Lane was unsure if they had actually found a body, but she doubted any more survivors would be cropping up at this point-- "and they mourn her. That's why we're still here. Because family mourns together." Or that was the extent of it to Lane's understanding. 

"And that's all I know." Lane shrugged apologetically. "I'm new, so.." she shrugged again. She wondered if the Glen wolves and the moonwolves begrudged the fact that the random new girl had survived, when so many family-- so many wolves who actually belonged here-- were now gone. Now that was a bitter thought.

...

Lane would answer the moonwolf's follow-up questions if he had any more, feeling content in her efforts to ease any remaining tension between Moonglow and the Firefly Glen refugees. If Firefly Glen could continue to clear up any remaining misunderstandings and start pulling their own weight around here, it seemed likely that Moonglow would continue to offer them the support they needed to rebound. 

Once they were finished speaking, Lane would offer her assistance with the antler once more. Whether or not he accepted her help with his task, Lane would ultimately depart from his company with a newfound confidence in her budding ambassador capabilities.