Whitebark Stream look, this comes as no surprise.

a new scent broke over the wilds, leaving sobeille on edge.

she knew it from the year before; the changing of bodies and the hormonal signaling of receptivity that, as far as she understood, came to all women.

when would it be sivaak's turn? or hers? she wondered if sivaak would make the men run as chani would, or fight as sobeille intended; what gauntlet must a man crawl through to prove his worth?

sobeille nosed a pawprint left neatly in the snow. around its edges lingered the singeing scent of estrus; it crisply stung her muzzle, and caused her pulse to quicken.

vaguey about this

The season had grown colder, bleaker. While Yura was no stranger to snow, she had yet to experience her first winter and was almost oblivious to the changes that came with it. Almost.

It was the scent that clung to many here that bothered her most. It was sweet and musky and unmistakeably repulsive. At first the stargirl had guessed it arose from the caribou but, as the set of very wolf-like pawprints she followed revealed, Yuralria had an inkling that her theory was flawed. 

Her lip curled in thought, gaze seeking the owner of the trail when her eyes landed on a ruddy wolf in the distance. Swiftly, she approached the stranger only to feel her stomach sink as the pawprints carried on into the snow. This wolf carried no trace of it, but Yuralria could not shake the question from her head. "Are they sick?"

lifting her muzzle to the fraying winter air, sobeille’s gaze fell on a fast approaching silhouette.

at first, she thought of the mild-mannered lotus; this one carried a similar schematic to her pelt. as she drew close, sobeille noted the distinctive features that put this sylph in a class all her own.

she studied the rose-gold of the yearling’s gaze; this was a new color for sobeille, and once again she was intrigued by the thousand colors — and emotions — eyes seemed capable of conveying.

glancing back to the trailing footsteps in the snow, sobeille waved her tail neutrally. in a way. seeing the youth in yura’s unblemished features pained sobeille, for it made her think of her young siblings. dey ‘ave deir season upon dem. dey will go an’ find a man, and make babies. and den the scent becomes somet’ing else.

There was no hostility to the stranger's stance, only an unreadable fire in her sunshine eyes that Yuralria couldn't help but feel unsettled by. Nevertheless, her neutrality drew the young girl in and soon she too was examining the tracks with a subtle twitch of her nose. 

The scent indicated the start of a season, the wolf explained in a lilting tone, and Yura's ears flicked as she attempted to understand what Sobeille was conveying. Was this how she had been made? She tried to imagine her mother and father together, but found no logical way the puzzle pieces fit. "How?"

She hardly allowed the other to reply when another thought crossed her mind. "I mean, does it have to be a man? What if you wanted to make babies with her?" Her gaze followed the trail until it disappeared, wondering if the stranger was tracking the mysterious snowwoman for the same reason.

sobeille stepped back, allowing space as yura’s muzzle worked in a subtle twitch over the lingering prints.

it be part of your body. sobeille knew enough of them to understand in women, the organ nestled just under the darkly gurgling intestines was the life giver; rich and sour at once, thick mucosa over a wall of resilient flesh made to expand to house whatever grew within it.

a shadow of a smile. you can be layin’ wit’ whatever you want. but if it be puppies you be wantin’, de man is necessary. a lilting descent in her tone conveyed she wished this was not so. you know, i know some kind of animals do not be needin’ de men. but for wolves, it is de way.

another smile flickered past, lingering in the sharp cut of her eye. once you be gettin’ wat you need from dem, dispose of dem ‘ow you see fit.

only sobeille did not expand on what methods of disposal were fitting for her tastes.

At the stranger's words, Yuralria's face morphed into a puzzled expression though her attention remained fixed on the distant horizon. There was a part of her body built for joining with a man to create life. If she had one, then Vairë did too - and Valiant had the counterpart. 

This new sliver of information had her mind swirling to places she did not even know she was capable of imagining with her limited knowledge of anatomy, and she gave her pelt a quick shake to ward off the rising heat to her cheeks. It all began to make sense now. Gods, she really should have paid more attention at women's circles. "My anaa says I'm s'posed to marry a man someday," tail curling in interest at the girl's comments. Only now did she begin to understand what that meant.

As had countless moonwolves before, Yuralria knew in the back of her mind it would be her duty to bear his children. Perhaps that too kept her from returning home just yet. But Sobeille offered her an escape, head swivelling in time to catch her sharp-edged grin. "There's wolves that live like that?" Yuralria couldn't ever imagine her mother disposing of her father, but then again, she never did learn what had happened to her previous husband.

anaa. the familiar term had sobeille's ears straighten, her cool golden gaze passing over yura's countenance with renewed vigor.

you be moonwolf den. sobeille surmised, rising from inspection of the powdery snow. deep draughts of the icy winter air between them, and she detected no trace of moonwoman on the young girl's pelt.

lowering herself to study the full breadth of the pawprint, sobeille surmised it belonged to a heavier built wolf; many moons their senior from the swirling eddy of odor still left along the snow.

wolves be livin' all kinds of ways. i t'ought dey be tellin' you dat in mooncamp. some wolves only take wives. o'ters 'ave no use for dem.

de seawolves -- we do not be takin' 'usbands at all. what would young yura make of that?

The stranger - or perhaps not-so-stranger's connection to her family was a curious thing. While moonwoman's reach should have filled the young wolf with pride, instead she felt only a sharp pang of guilt as she nodded in response. Vairë needed her and here she was discussing lovers with a seawolf.

Mooncamp. Sobeille must have meant the woman's circles. "I dunno," she admitted with a vague shrug, "never really listened close at those kindsa meetings." Nor had she ever given much thought to a wolf's preference before. Raised by a matchmaking grandmother and surrounded by more conventional women, Yura had not felt the need to question the status quo.

Until now.

This wolf desired a different type of companionship, if her tone had been anything to go by, and the stargirl was delicately intrigued by her way of life. "Are you lookin' for a wife?" she shot the other a curious smile.

a few times now sobeille had attended the moonwolves' camp. she had stayed with sialuk a month in her first year; learned of their tradition from kukutux -- and had even absorbed some of their custom in her own small ways.

she had been hungry to learn; it surprised her to see a girl born of such rich tradition would not cherish it. often, sobeille longed for the unknowable history of her family's origins: nearly all of them dead now, and no women's circle in which to weave rich stories and pass on vibrant oral traditions.

what dry remark she might impress upon the girl was lost as she asked a question sobeille had never been confronted with before. and though the short-lived smile on her lips twinkled still in her eyes, there was a meanness there sobeille could not hide.

someday. i be looking to make my legacy first - and you only get dat from children. it was not that she wished the male appendage for such things - it was that she wished to be without all of it. why? you be lookin' for a wife? not enough women for you back 'ome?

"You don't smell like the season though," Sobeille desired children before a wife, but Yuralria could scent none of the sweetness that clung to the pawprints on the other's pelt. Nor could she detect much of anything beyond a rich musk. The stargirl concluded that there was something she was missing - what that was, though, was hard to tell.

The wolf asked the same of her and Yura let the question hang in the frigid winter air between them. Ajei came to mind, as did the children of Sialuk, and she felt her nose crinkle in response. "No," came her flat reply, unphased by the fierce look that overcame Sobeille. "I mean - we're all kinda related, y'know? But if the right girl came along, maybe." Her breath plumed white as she sighed deeply. "Legacy means a lot to me too."

It wasn't for lack of interest, but more a privileged ignorance and duty to her mother that kept her from fully engaging with her family's traditions. She thought back to the hunt last season, the smorgasbord of young wolves at the healer's camp that Yuralria had been too busy with mundane tasks to really meet and felt a twinge of regret. Along with something else entirely. A flicker of recognition passed over the girl's face - she had seen this wolf before. "You came to the gathering last year, right?" In passing flashes of a ruddy pelt - even the same lilting tone as the healer man from the sea. What was his name again?

unlike yura, when sobeille thought of ajei warmth misted her frame in fine dousing. her eyes climbed to yura’s face, studying — a familiarity there just beyond touch’s limitations.

she grunted in response to yura observing she carried none of the fragrance of a wolf in season.

an idea took root in her as spring does to winter thaw; nascent at first and growing until it became the roar of meltwater flowing down a mountain slope.

hearing another be so open with their sexuality thrilled sobeille. thus far, only chani had shared these things with her — and sobeille felt a yawning distance between them, for she could not bring herself to love a man or his body.

but this one, sobeille decided, could not be let go. if sivaak had taken her, why could she not take yura?

ya. i was there both years. nothing about stealing an eye or attempted murder. her face warmed with shame to remember ameline.

tell me more about what legacy be meanin’ to you. came sobeille’s insistent urge, followed by the hungry interest of her yellow gaze.

The other gave no further information regarding the season and, though disappointed, Yura met her grunt with a vague tilt of her head and let the thought ruminate for now.

"I was there too," her tail beat softly between her legs as her assumptions were confirmed. "Well, only to last year's hunt. I'm Yuralria - what's your name?" Sobeille brewed and Yuralria's focus instead remained on making a friend. And friends could not be made without a name, she decided.

While she would have wanted to hear more of the girl's experiences at the hunt, instead there was an intensity to Sobeille's next words that had her paws shuffling uncomfortably in the snow. "My anaa will be moonwoman someday, and someone's gonna have to take her place too eventually." She left unsaid the implication that it would be herself- at least, that's what she believed. Her sisters did not seem like the type to take duty so seriously. "Even if I find a wife, I want children too. That's what legacy means to me." Though, as her words were firm and well-recited, there remained an undercurrent of doubt.

learning this girl might someday become moonwoman pivoted sobeille’s interest. she drew on all she knew of the moon cult, and wondered what rituals one endured to become cloaked in such esteem.

silent for several beats, sobeille looked to the ground where powders of glittering snow swirled around her feet.

an image then, of a very far future — pawprints silhouetted in the angry smear of blood; leading down to a grey and snow laden shore.

i be sobeille — of sapphique, she almost said. but that wasn’t true anymore, was it? in becoming part of sivaak’s journey she had shed some of her own. now, she was sobeille of many faces and many tribes.

solique whispered a yellow-eyed presence; sobeille’s attention turned back to yuralia with renewed purpose rippling across her skin i be t’inking you should meet sivaak. to be moonwoman, you need to learn strengt’. of mind and body. now she placed her forepaws firm in the snow and urged: come wit’ me.

There was no answer, and for a brief moment Yuralria thought she'd said something wrong until the ruddy girl introduced herself as Sobeille. The name rolled off her tongue, a siren's cadence that was unfamiliar and beautiful in its own way. And another name too: Sivaak.

A wolf to teach her strength and spirit; Yuralria was as sceptical as she was curious. What became of women who ascended to the moon was known only to Kukutux, but still she wondered. Her own strength was lacking, her own spirit unawakened; Sobeille had reignited a veracious thirst for knowledge that Yura was slave to.

She was quiet for a time as she thought of Keda and Ice Diver. Whatever potential they'd seen in her, Sobeille saw more, and in her mind's eye she envisioned a life not as a caribou hunter but as moonwoman. "O-ok. I'll see Sivaak." A tentative step back at Sobeille's assertion, though her gaze was firm and ready to follow. As had she paid the hunters for her lodgings, Yura wandered what price hung on Sobeille's kindness. "Do you- want anything in return? Y'know, for doin' this for someone you've only just met."

companionable silence etched between them; or at least, this was sobeille's imagining.

her mind was at some distant junction in the future.

eyjolfurs. dahomey. rivaini.

surnames of bygone houses; ghosts whose faces were mirrored in her own. here she was, alive among them. breathing life into a legacy they had no way of knowing they aided in constructing:

because she could not say with great certainty that her grandmaman's surnames did not come from men, sobeille composed her own.

solique.

her yellow gaze slid back to yura, noting the shift in expression and the tentative step back. she remained unmoving - if sivaak had taught her anything at all, it was that things were simply what they were. the strong were the strong, and the weak were the weak.

yura would either follow, or she would not. in this way, the caribou-hunter's bloodchilling pragmatism had seeped within her.

she lifted her chin, considering what culture yura must hail from to think lifting women to the sky came at great cost. her own maman's words rolled back to her: you be loved, girl. if you do anytin' else, if you go, den seek de company of women wherever you land.

such proclamation had moved sobeille, for it showed a coven of sisterhood that ran deeper than blood. men could not account for it, because they had no reckoning of it; this was the communal power of women alone.

dere is no cost. you come, you grow stronger. an' in your strengt' you be makin' your sisters stronger too.

it be women dat 'old up de world.