Ouroboros Spine Moon of my life

Aiolos had not expected to come in this manner. That he would arrive with a heavy heart and with worried thoughts to leave a solemn expression over his features. That his song would not be eager and hopeful, but more sorrow and haunting as he howled out into the night sky. He called for @Kukutux and he sat down, patient as he looked out over the length of short mountain peaks.

This time he does not visit for he does not think he will return to the island. Not any time soon, at least. He comes a broken man, without the reputation of rank and strength he once had for the woman who had chosen him.

the tupilak and her wretched teeth had left healing marks beneath moonwoman's eye and across the bridge of her nose. they would heal, in time, but kukutux worried that they might also scar. and she saw now how much she had wanted to preserve the look of herself, realizing too late that she could not save it.

it was unfair; she let out her breath in a huff, and was horrified for now to be that time that aiolos called for her. the duck scrambled upright from where she had been pressing muzzle into a crush of wet leaves. ears swept forward; she was reluctant, ecstatic. a swallow tightened her throat.

now — the past days had been burning within the duck, until her skin seemed to scorch itself from the entrypoints, and in her, the beginning of sedna's call drifting lightly from her pores.

she should stay, no —

kukutux felt the sting of the wind upon her flesh as she ran to the border, slowing to a canter and then a walk as she saw the grim fall of his face. "aiolos," softly, hesitantly; why did he come in this way? and why must she stand before him now, marred? would he want her still?

The night is still and heavy. Clouds filled the sky and the Moon Mother peeked out from beneath them. He wonders if guards linger along their mountainous borders but do not come, for his call is to Kukutux and her alone, as his last visit had only been to their firsthunter. He realizes he visits often and now wonders if the locals here recognize him as an ally of theirs.

Soon a winter snow comes, running, trotting and then slowing into a walk. He is lifted up by now, slowly to walk closer to her as she to him. She wonders- would he take her now scarred? He wonders-would she take him now powerless?

Kukutux... Her new wounds shown easily in twilight, not so well hidden on her face where her fur was not long and thick. Her once flawless facial features no more, as himself, who's bridge of his muzzle and at his cheek held various old kicks and cuts from times ago. She too had run into troubles recently, yet far more physical then his own mishaps.

What happen? He speaks as he draws nearer, close, to brush his black snout over the fresh wound cross the bridge of her nose and then the other.

"a fox spirit," was all kukutux managed to breathe out; "what has happened?" coursing in the next. she bowed her head beneath his own, but was unable to keep from touching the redsun; her teeth feathered through the fur of his pelt and her crown brushed against his chin.

he was eaten by something, and kukutux would know it; but there was a new urgency in her, one she understood intrinsically.

would aiolos see that she stood with paws at the end of a valley road she had walked before? 

her jadeglow eyes, finally, lifted to the somber planes of his face. 

inugiksuk.

A fox spirit? Aiolos didn't know if it were really a fox or an actual other wolf who had the personality of a sly and cunning fox. Given Kukutux way of words, he guessed the latter and so was left to wonder who attacked her. His muscles tensed at the thought, but she forced the attention off of herself and onto him with her question.

I didn't want to mention it, or maybe I just didn't want to admit it... His head lowers to touch his chin and throat against the top of her crown. He breathes her in, all too suddenly comforted by her presence. And with a heavy sigh, he explained.

Since spring Yuelong has become very small. Understandable, as when spring came wolves looked to disperse, mate, create their own packs or even just adventure while in winter loners sought to join packs for survival. I couldn't imagine it being the same without our Empress. Without Hua. Hua recently finally decided she wanted to leave this land... Mal and those remaining of their children went with them. There is but a pawful of us now, not enough to stay lest we risk our pups survival... And then, to clarify, @Maegi and @Mou's... there are four.

her veins were beginning to blossom green and pale with a billowing flush; she felt elevated. the first time it had come upon her suddenly, and that was when the blackfox had come, and had found her; he made his choice then; he asked it of her. and then they were one, first before moonspear's leaders and then with each other.

this was a changed thing altogether; not the immediate tethering pull, not yet immediacy. enrapturement. kukutux could hardly consider the dour things aiolos spoke. it was only by her own willpower that control came to her again. "moonglow is open to you."

by which kukutux might have meant many things; she wanted to answer him as ambassador from her beloved spine to the remainder of the noble island. "the empress always had kindness for me. i have a wish that she is happy."

and now it is your place to be happy, sun man.

a thought;

she set her chin against his chest and looked up at him.

"you will stay, aiolos?" hope rising to choke the season — for now.

He knew her home would be open to him. Open armed like it was to anyone who came without ill intention, who came honest and true. Hua would find happiness with her family even if it meant leaving the island behind. Could Aiolos do the same?

With her chin rested to his chest, his neck pulls back, his own chin tucking so that the fire of his gaze could meet the earth of her own. A deep breath escapes him and all the while he misses the sea already, in this instant he craves her more.

Yes.

yes

as if he were the warm foamcaps of waves encircling the white sands of the duck;

beneath the sunfire of his gaze, the duck felt her edges catch alight, flame coursing throat and vein and loin, heated until each inch of her skin felt filled with conflagration;

"aiolos," his voice a breath and a whisper of time, time; the winds within her rose, and the hot twirling of heart toiling, until truly and effortlessly she was gone,

swallowed by the ember of his nearness, aware and awake, and come to thrumming heady life.