Ouroboros Spine tapsi ▓

i know we have one, so this can be for whenever! <3

she had not seen norah in quite some time. surely the woman had gone up to the mountains. a prayer for the dark wraith's safety; another for meerkat, who had too departed them.

all that weighed upon her, she must take to the beginnings of her woman's circle. sialuk would follow, and was at the side of her mother always. but those within the pack must be held in confidence.

she meant to seek out the painter @Lótë, but kukutux did not come without a gift. the location of lavender and dandelion marked within her healer's mind, not far from the elegant beauty of the artist's den. blossoms to offer for the colors enjoyed, and the duck stood not at the woman's doorstep as moon, but only as sister.

Morning rays had begun to trickle in, golden and gleaming with the newness of the day -- birdsong filtering into the earthen shadows of the den. It was cozy rather than suffocating and the dove did not mind being indoors for the moment as she pawed the pelts she had begun to compile into a soft bed, fluffing and airing them in new arrangements lest they grow stale and musty.

The scent of the pallid mother reached her nose, intertwined with the delicate aromas of the flowers she carried, and a flash of white from outside alerted her to the Moon's presence. The mouse slipped from her dwelling as she wheeled in a wide arc, a welcoming wag to her tail and curve of her lips greeting their Alpha as she blinked against the sun. "Hello, Kukutux."

lótë paced from the downy confines of her sweet-smelling den; kukutux saw now the sweep of her lips, and suddenly again alongside the woman felt crowded. grimed, somehow. "i come to ask you a — mmm, a thing that has much — it is a large thing," the duck finally finished, frazzled; she drew a breath and settled herself upon suddenly weakened haunches.

"i will be mother in moonglow. but i do not want to be alone in this," the featherwolf said softly, hesitantly; jadestone brushed springstep gaze. "i will give you this, if it is something you are wanting."

Seeing now the uncertainty on the pale tern's features, the girl with the star-kissed brow felt her smile falter but only with concern for the Moon -- mind jumping to the thought that something might be wrong. Her heart did not still with the Alpha's offer but rather hitched, relief finding her that she had not done something wrong and doubling again at the opportunity the snowshoe matchmaker gifted her with. Her lips parted uselessly for a moment, not expecting that she might be given such a chance so soon. She thought then of how Meerkat and Norah had dispersed from the Spine and saw that it made sense, for she alone could be a sister in this -- Sialuk still too young to gift her mother with grandchildren. 

"I..I would," she stuttered alongside the uneven patter of her heart's beating, her tail slowly beginning to wag at the thought. It had always been something she looked forward to -- someday. Perhaps someday had come sooner than she thought but the painter could not deny that her heart warmed and swelled at the notion of motherhood. A thought struck her then and it was the mouse's turn to be hesitant.

"Who would father my children?" she asked the wisewoman quietly, ears drifting lightly. Did the customs of their tribe dictate she lie with a certain male or was she supposed to choose the man who would sire her pups? Did it have to be a man of Moonglow or would Kukutux want Aiwëndil to pick a father from amongst village Glen to cement their alliance -- or maybe even find a stranger? All these questions and more spiraled through her mind wildly, suddenly apprehensive though she was still partial to the idea.

i would

and kukutux felt her spirit suspended with a new and thrilling relief that perhaps lótë saw her as she had wanted to be seen by the painter. careful, despite the new soft welling of pasteled awareness upon the smooth satin curves of her sightly face. the duck, not yet allowing herself to believe that her offering had brought this to her companion — though it must be so! — welcomed the more firm talk of preparation.

"in moonglow, you will have final choice. i will want you to have the bride-price that is proper. but," and she felt not merited an inhale, for the shadowhunter's name pressed against her tongue. gentle lótë, tied to the feral hungers of raimo. she did not think it would be an apt match, for more reasons than her own selfish want. "in my mind, i have held adrastus' name close to your own."

jadeglim eyes, searching the cloudberry woman for any sign of resistance to the uttering.

She felt a stilling in herself at the words of 'bride-price' and wondered after what this term might mean -- resolving to ask in a moment so as not to overwhelm the wan Moon with too many questions at once, despite how her heart raced with the wings of a hummingbird and pounded in her throat like the tribal drumming of paws upon stone and slabs of wood. The festival music of her people's public mating ceremony echoing in her ears, as if she could still hear the chanters and callers filling the air with a symphony of endlessly changing music. 

At mention of the spiritbear, her lips curled ever so faintly -- peridots dropping shyly. It was a good match in her mind. The pale huntsman was gentle and kind, not to mention he had more than proven himself to be a valuable member of the pack and a good provider. He would sire strong pups and the aspiring Naturalist knew she would be able to rely on him for help if they whelped their own litter. Most importantly, she was rather fond of him...perhaps it was a fondness that could grow into something more with time, if nourished as she tended her herbs so dotingly. 

"I would not be adverse to this match...if Adrastus is of a similar mind," the mouse agreed, returning her eyes to Kukutux's similar hues of coniferous green with a hint of girlish excitement in the way she chewed at her lip, green gaze sparking. "Might I ask what a bride-price is?" 

aya. she had chosen well, it seemed; kukutux watched the demure gaze of the cloudberry woman draw away from her, but not before spotting the bow that adorned the gentle mouth. it was an answering glow that responded to the expression of lótë when her companion lifted the gemstone gaze once more.

"bride-price. it is —" and here kukutux paused, considering. "sivullik is skilled as hunter. it is part of why he is first. but he must know more than the best way to kill." her gaze rested upon the other woman, searching. "in my birth village, a man who wishes to marry comes to the father of the woman he wants. father says, 'bring to me three otterskins and a fox pelt."

the duck traced designs in the dust, stopping again to choose her words. "it will be different here. together you decide which ulaq will belong to you. if he has made it a pleasing place, ask him for something that will bind you to his hearth. if you wish more furs, he brings them. it is to say he will listen when you speak, this bride-price."

a twinge, to think that she herself would not merit such a fortune, and that with this she should be content. as moon a portion of all things belonged to her. and yet it was not the same.

The herdstalker fell still as a winter night, gaze lingering upon Kukutux -- flickering with micro expressions of confusion, understanding, surprise -- as she listened attentively to the importance of the matchmaker's words. "I see,"  Lótë murmured with a slow nod when their flow had ceased, gaze only dropping to the earth then -- to the idle doodles the Moon had left in the loose dirt. Truthfully, she was still a little lost on the idea, uncertain what exactly she should ask Adrastus for. She pushed that aside for now as another thought popped into her mind. 

Curiously, the mouse glanced up at the Alpha with hesitant orbs of spruce green. "If it would not be inappropriate to ask...have you chosen a father for your litter already?" Maybe it was a personal decision and it would be rude to pry.  Aiwëndil felt her ears tip back, nervously waiting -- hoping she hadn't put her paw in her mouth. 

kukutux shook her head. "we are part of the women's circle. we must speak in a direct way to the ear of each other. men speak in sounds. we use our voice." it was a confirmation meant to steady and to praise lótë. next came a seeking question, and she drew a little breath.

"moonwoman chooses sivullik if she has no husband," the duck said, though continued calmly, with more assurance than was felt within her chest — "but i am moonwoman here, and i say that is the choice of the one who is wife to firsthunter, and his as well. it is a choice they must make together. he may say no, and then he will choose another from among the men's circle for me. and if i do not say yes to them, then i will have no children this year."

it was a long accord, but it was meant to bring balance. you could not force such things. you must only decide what is best for the land and for your companions.

It was a lot to take in admittedly, and the mouse found herself speechless as she drank down the soft wine of words and subtle customs that were steadily becoming her own -- their own, the ways of all village Moonglow. The traditions of her own land had never been quite so elaborate but the yearling could find a measure of respect for the northron through her culture -- it seemed a great sacrifice to make for the happiness of your people which only served to cement the herdstalker's loyalty to the moonwife further. 

A selfish part of her, a youthful part, wanted to deny Kukutux and snatch Adrastus away for herself -- a possessive aspect of her yearning to be one and only. But this was not the way of her newfound tribe. Moreover, that shameful part of her was almost immediately drowned out by the reasonable parts of her, the same parts that had come to view the Moon in a wash of rosy affection. She was not so young that she looked to the pale beauty as a mother but they had found a kinship in one another -- a sorority between them, the kind of friendship that Lótë had yearned for amongst the womenfolk of Elennanórë. She could no more deny her Alpha out of petty jealousy than she could lighten her coat or change the color of her eyes.

Fallow brow rumpled lightly, off put by the vaguely unfair notion that anyone of any standing should have sway over whether Kukutux became a mother again, or with whom. She weighed her words carefully before she spoke again, evergreen emeralds rising to meet Kukutux's orbs -- the color of which she had seen only in the lights dancing across the sky -- with some hesitant emotion. It shone there in her greengaze, this unformed thread of an idea, as slow words spilled from her tongue and her heart pounded in her chest.

"The moonwoman is allowed to marry, yes?" she asked for clarification before her next, true inquisition was posed carefully. "Has it ever come to pass that the moonwoman and sivullik have married? That sivullik might take more than one woman to make a hearth with?" 

cloudberry tea woman; her voice like the gentle fall of rain against the feathered branches of ferns in a deep wood. kukutux had not considered the hierarchy of wives, because she had not considered that she would be a wife again. "i told —" raimo that i was not ready for a husband.

kukutux pulled her eyes from the gentle one who had learned to command a world of colorful hues. someone such as lótë should be given the opportunity to experience the first-rose of becoming one with a new husband. the duck did not want to subject her patient kinswoman to the rigid world of first-wife and second, of his duties to them both, of the way that their children might be reared.

"aya," the duck said almost in a whisper, gemstone gaze wet at its edges. "if i was not moonwoman, i would say yes to this. i know there would not be strife between us if we shared the same hearth." and yet.

"sivullik marries who he chooses. but i cannot be among those he looks at. it would mean that you are second wife, always. this is not a fair thing to you, lótë." and there was no desire in her for a husband, only a bitter shout where a blossoming adoration for the blackfox had once been.

Lótë smiled gently, shaking her crown of rabbitpelt lightly in denial. "I am only, remember? Things like first and second have never meant much to me. If Adrastus were happy...if you were happy, Kukutux...that would make me happy," she explained in hushed tones, soughing like the branches of a willow caught in the wind. Such things were not uncommon in the Land of Many Elms. Women shared each other and their men, they shared their lives in the truest sense of the form. Her children would know the moonmother as second mother, her own pups as their siblings even if they were not borne of the same body. It did not sound so horrible to the two-year. 

But then, she considered something. "What would you want? Not as Alpha or moonwoman or matchmaker. But as a woman. What would you desire?" It broke her heart to think that the wisewoman might choose her husband, if she married at all, or might bear more children simply for the sake of duty. The herdstalker longed to know that her friend was truly happy, as happy as one could be given the circumstances. That she was not being forced into anything or felt obligated by her duties to their village. 

raimo. she wanted to say the name aloud, to admit it; she wanted to say this above all things to lótë, but could not. her tongue would not form the words. it was almost as if saying these things aloud made them whole. more daunting.

but all of moonglow had known she walked with the shadowhunter. his absence around her and around the ulaq was difficult to overlook. "the one i chose first," the duck willed, in this moment not moonwoman nor mother, only an emblem of want and of loss.

"there is another man," kukutux went on, scarcely hearing herself. "aiolos, of yuelong. we have had the names of each other for many years. he is head of his clan. i am head of mine. but it would not be a choice made only for the future we cannot see."

a meandering, wondering gleam touching her solemn gaze.

Lótë couldn't deny that she had noticed the interactions between the wisewoman and the Spear of their village. The artisan was an astute woman, if a discreet and seldom-spoken one. Her eyes saw but her mind had long ago grown accustomed to the tradition of affording the other members of her community privacy -- a common practice that was taught with age for youngsters of Elennanórë. It had concerned her at first, considering her uneasiness around the shadow-stalker. But it was not the two-year's place to have an opinion on who her Alpha took into her bed. So long as both were in agreement and happy with the arrangement, the dove saw no reason to interfere.

The cloudberry didn't know what had happened to change things between the Moon and her night-pelted consort, only that their union seemed to have come to end -- which she could only assume was a painful transition for both. Kukutux seemed withdrawn and Raimo had been scarcely seen since the pack hunt. For a moment, the rabbit-pelted girl could see beneath the composed veil of authority the matchmaker was forced to wear and glimpsed an echo of the true hurt that had gripped her. Aiwëndil dared to lean forward, brushing her nose to the leader's cheek -- seeking to provide comfort with the small gesture.

The agouti's ears perked with interest as Kukutux went on to speak of the seawolf, Aiolos, whom she had never met. Still, the corners of her brown-rose lips curled upwards faintly with fondness to hear that someone had managed to tug at the northron's heart strings even if only feebly. "Perhaps it might work itself out in some way. Maybe Adrastus would agree with you that it would be wise to consecrate our ties with Yuèlóng if you spoke of it with him," the mousy girl suggested gently. 

kukutux nodded, relieved that lótë had seen fit to examine things in the moon's manner. "if it were only a kinship tie between our land and his, i would still do this thing." she wanted children this year, and the redsun's hearth was to be where she bore them, then surely the spirits would look kindly upon their binding.

she did not speak to lótë of the way her pulse quickened at the conception of this possibility, nor that she had already once beneath a cold moon known aiolos and made for them both a sleeping place at moonglow's edge. yet her jadestone gaze lit with the secret openness known only to women; she tossed back her fluted crown and sighed toward the sky.

"at times i wish i was hunter," moonwoman mused, scar seeming to twinge in answer. but no matter how many beasts she might fell, at her core kukutux would always be part of another circle. "do you have the belief that adrastus will say yes to this?" she wondered aloud, attention upon the cloudberry woman. had she and sivullik yet spoken of such?

The two-year considered for a moment. Truthfully, she didn't really know for sure that Adrastus would agree. But he did seem to be a reasonable man and he had handled the situation with Raimo well, as far as the herdstalker could tell. She didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle but it was her belief that Raimo had been so scarce due to his falling out with Kukutux, not because of the rivalry with the brumal huntsman. 

"I think so," she gave as an answer, nodding though there was a measure of hesitancy in her gaze that belied the fact that she hadn't spoken of such things with him. This was the first she'd ever heard of Aiolos after all. "I know that sivullik is supposed to choose but he might see the wisdom in it, if you spoke with him about it. I don't see why he should say no," the dove shrugged her fallow shoulders feebly. Adrastus seemed almost reluctant to be tasked with the idea of choosing who might father Kukutux's pups, especially after everything that had happened with Raimo. The artisan thought he might readily accept a suggestion from the wisewoman but perhaps she was mistaken. Maybe that was why such matters were left to the circle of hunters and men, because women couldn't know why the master of the hunt might choose whom he chose.

can probably fade this <3

kukutux nodded. it was a thing that adrastus must decide, but she knew the icehunter would come to her. he was a man of careful words, and did not yet know all her customs by his heart. he came to her to learn, and by this she felt respected. honored.

"he will be a good husband," moonwoman chirruped. "he makes every choice with care." at this, her eyes rested with knowing and sisterly tease upon lótë. it would be good that they come together, if the spirits meant to see it this season.

a stretch of slender spine. "the lake is cold. but to swim is good." a sidestep invite, and she began to move away, meaning goodbye if the cloudberry woman did not wish to go, or good nature if lótë accepted.

Lótë's stillwater features shone softly, as if with some dim, cozy light beneath the surface of her dimpled expression -- peridots of reserved spring green falling to the stretch of earth between them. A smile teased at her lips, tail swishing in a slow arc, as warmth bloomed beneath her sternum -- a red flower cradled in the cage of her ribs. "I hope so," she murmured but she had faith in the spiritbear. 

I hope I can make him a good wife, she thought (fretted) to herself in what might have been prayer -- vaguely aimed at the web of spirits her people had worshipped. 

"I hope you enjoy yourself," the herdstalker wished in gentle refusal of the wisewoman's invitation. There were things to think about and she longed to walk alone through the blackpine as she considered them. 

She gave the Moon a last smile, and a bump of her brown rose nose against the sister's pale shoulder, before they separated on their own paths.