Ouroboros Spine How ever do you do?

Amalia padded near the beautiful river, where she spent most of her time. She had met the dark red wolf Rodyn. He had shown her where she could find rabbits and squirrels. He had warned her to try and catch squirrels for gifts as one of the littles couldn't eat rabbit.

She carried the limp squirrel in her jaw. She would have liked to gather a nice gift, but she was not a crafts wolf, she was merely Amalia, hunter. Today she searched for the Moonwoman @Kukutux that was the matriarch of moonglow.

She finally settled to the ground curled her tail around her paws, lay the squirrel down and called gently for the female, but only if she had the time.

it intrigued her that cerne and this woman amalia had not made mates of each other. it would mean more children for natigvik and more inhabitants for their issumatar.

but she was polite and did not ask. "i greet you," she said to the pretty snowcloud huntress.

Amalia had not entertained the thought of children or a mate, since that day in the meadow with Void. When Kigipigak had made it clear, that only he and Sahkmet would have children. Though she would be lying were she to say, Cerne didn't intrigue her in some small way, but she didn't know him well. She found this place here, dripping in sweetness, and love. Mates were found for most of the eligible age.

Amalia dipped her muzzle down. Hello. I brought you a gift, as thanks. You and your family and friends are very kind.

She looked around her in awe. My father's mother would have told stories of this place.

whoa post 2k for u!

she looked at the squirrel. it was finely caught with a rich pelt. "bring this to my ulaq. i will trade to you the skill of scraping the skin."

her eyes shone.

"you decide what you will give me in return."

it was a show of familiarity. she carried herself proudly as they walked.

Awesomesauce, congrats

Amalia leaned forward without another word and carried the squirrel with gentle teeth. She was excited to learn a new skill. She would enjoy this. She was always willing to learn new things.

The moonwoman carried herself well. And Amalia was in awe of her. She reminded her a bit of her own mother, and grandmother. Very comfortable in her own skin, confident, evercompassing.

Though her mind raced, what would she trade for such a skill. She could trade a story, but that felt strange. She could trade a favor to be found at a later date? Wha tif she did both. Traded the story for her time and the favor for the skill?

<3

they came to the densites. kukutux settled herself. she offered amalia a piece of dried meat. "tell me of your first village, where you were born."

the duck offered also a piece of honeycomb, reserved for such a time as this,

she motioned that the other woman should give her the squirrel.

Amalia took what was offered, and smiled, before she took a bite. Her brow furrowed. It isn't a happy story.

She gently lay the meat down, while she gathered her thoughts, kindly accepting the honeycomb as well. She would eat and chew after she spoke at length. She settled the squirrel at Moon woman's feet.

My grandparents were healers and storytellers, but they were also nomads. They would offer their services for food and lodging and things they needed.

She tilted an ear backwards, stil as she remembered, it was happy in places, but most of her story or her parents story more so was sad. They were still alive as far as she knew, but where they were she did not know.

My father in an effort to sent down roots, and stay in one place, he grew rigid in his stances, and his rules. But he also tried to cater to my mother and grandmother's more genteel approach. Pair that with migrating prey animals, smaller living spaces, and our pack began to implode. I was sent off before it was too terrible, my parents demanding that I leave, to keep myself safe. So I did. Before that though. We lived in a forest known as Maple Grove. It was beautiful there, and I often visit it in my dreams.

Amalia grew quiet. Her thoughts on her parents and her siblings. Who she had left, and if they were still alive, and alright.

as amalia spoke, kukutux turned the squirrel over and over. she split it in three points: neck, belly, and undertail, and her tearing was neat along those lines. the wolf carefully skinned the small body and then lay the naked meat aside. what she had now was a small bloodied hide, hardly torn at all.

"this village of maple groves, it is a place of much power to come to you in dreams, amalia." she motioned with her tail that the other should rise and come with her to the lake. she put the squirrel-skin around her white shoulders, where it leaked crimson.

amalia had suffered much. it showed in the depths of her eyes, even with how soft they still remained.

Amalia watched with fascination as Kukutux split the tiny creature. She would remember that. Remember to tear it at the next, belly and undertail. Granted her's would not be as clean, and she was very eager to try. Perhaps after she spoke with the matriarch, she would hunt a rabbit and try.

I like to think so. It was always beautiful there, and before we grew to large, it handled our needs well, and perhaps someday the prey will come again. Perhaps my family is still there, though smaller now.

She wasn't certain anymore, she liked to think they were there, happy, healthy. Amalia felt momentarily bad that Kukutux was staining her pristine fur of snow red.

Amalia did not share many of her past, she shared enough to tell people she knew, but for the most part. She kept it quiet. She followed behind her, gentle paw steps, enjoying the silence.

"you speak of your village the way that i speak of the one where i was born." there wa s a kinship there perhaps, one of resignation and pain. 

she motioned to the water. "dip the skin into the water. soak it. push it down and put a rock over it. but wade out into the middle there, aya, yes. where the lake moves. the waters and the fish will eat the flesh that is left, and then we will be able to scrape it."

Home will always be special, it is both a happy and bittersweet memory and it shaped me. I would not trade it.

That is all the more she said. Amalia grasped the skin between teeth and she dunked the hide until it was soaked and then she let it go and using her paws, pressed it down, down and moved a rock over top of it.

She made a mental note of where it was and then rejoined Kukutux at the water's edge.

Does this take more than a day? OR do we wait now for it? I am not privy to what fish eat?

kukutux held up a paw. "five spans of time." an hr each time. "but this is for a larger pelt. we will only leave the squirrel for one span of time." 

in the interim, they would find something else to do. "during winter hunting, moonglow and village duskfire killed many caribou. my daughters helped me to scrape piles of pelts. singing makes the work sweeter. would you like to know a working-song?"

Amalia knew that often an hour seemed long, but with things to do it wasn't near as bad. Keeping busy was a must.

will we do that with you this winter?

Her next question drew a smile from the girl. I have not learned songs since my grandmother. I would love to learn one.

Her grandma had not sung often, but when she did Amalia had loved it

kukutux nodded. "i have to the wish that moonglow does this every winter."

amalia wished to know a song.

moonwoman was silent. and then she began to sing in the words of the long ice island.

"the snow goose is grey,
she wears a new parka now
the sun shows a bright face
listen to the song of motherbird
she says, your arms are heavy with work
tell your husband you want many sons
tell him to give you sweet fruit instead
until the snow comes, you will rest 
when the snow comes, you will rest

Amalia smiled. I would like that as well. I enjoy the closeness the two packs enjoy together. And she had. She would not leave Kigipigak or Sahkmet, but she was glad they had a sister pack to berth with on occasion.

Amalia listened to the first few frames, and then she slowly began to hum the melody. She did not joy in the singing, she didn't even know if she could sing, but she enjoyed the cadence, the rythmn. When it was over, she dipped a paw to her muzzle and nodded.

Thank you for sharing that with me.

"i am happy to give it."

kukutux rocked back upon her haunches.

"there is much woman's magick in these songs. they are not for men." she wondered if amalia knew that there were two circles in a village, even if it was unsaid.

Amalia smiled. My family hailed from story tellers and healers, and i learned to give back what was given to me. I hope i can return the favor some day. I'm not as good as my mother, or my grandmother.

Amalia nodded a sage smile on her face. Before she had left her mother had told her of the power within a woman. That made grown males tremble and topple villages in their stead. She said to make sure she never abused it.

My mother told me there is much power within women, but to be careful it doesn't eat us alive.

kukutux looked at the stormcloud woman.

"wisdom grows with age. i was wise when i was a girl. but i have new wiseness now as anaa and moonwoman." 

if these things were in amalia's path, she would soon come to know it. 

"what is 'eating us alive?'" she asked, curious as to how those words fit together.

Amalia thought of her mother, her grandmother. ALl wise, and grew wiser with each passing year. She liked to think that she could take their advice and utilize it, but she would grow into her own wisdom in time.

Amalia frowned in thought. It is when something truly bothers us, or like what i was saying. You let power go to your head. It is like eating you alive. It festers. There in your heart. Making you heartsore and soul weary.

kukutux thought upon this for a moment. "there was a woman in the place of my birth. she had many sons and a strong hearth. but she was not happy. she had much anger inside her chest, and said ugly words. she had the thinking that she was above us all, her own chieftain."

the duck shrugged smoothly.

"she fell into the black ice during winter hunting. she was not seen again."

Amalia sighed. It is a shame that her life came to that. But some people are just not nice. I've not met many in that way, but I've heard stories. And I've been around those that think much differently than I.

Amalia briefly thought of the stranger Void. Whom she had gotten along with, except that he was pushy. Wanted more than she was willing to give right away. It had made her realize not everyone was as she was.

kukutux clucked her tongue.

"aya. how much we are taught from stories." she smiled at the younger woman.

"is there any place in the village where you have not yet gone? i will take you there."

Amalia's ear perked forward and then back as the she wolf spoke. Her noble bearing clear in her words and way she spoke.

There was wisdom in her words. Wisdom that Amalia liked and would endeavor to follow.

I have been there, but I wonder. What is it you could tell me of your three large trees. I believe someone told me they were called the Three Sisters. I find the fascinating and they feel. She frowned trying to put her thoughts into words and couldn't.

Sacred?

"three sister oak."

kukutux nodded. she began to set off down the path which would take them there.

"a time ago, a long time, there were three sisters. they quarreled every day. they were unkind to one another. they listened to neither their mother or their father."

the trees took shape ahead.

"one day, a handsome young hunter came into the village. he saw each of them. he saw their beauty. he knew he would have one for wife when he offered their father his bride price."

"but each sister hated the other. and because they could not agree, the first of them went to the man. 'come to the shore. we have decided who among us will be your bride.'"

"the sister drowned the man and pushed him down among the ice. but sedna saw. and she turned them all to trees, and the first sister the longest. when they have thought on their hatred for many, many moons, she will release them."

kukutux looked up at the green oak boughs. "it is a place to think and to be better."

goodness i hope that doesn't happen to Rodyn <3

Amalia listened, following the snow frosted woman with black shadow pelt. Her ears atop her head, acknowledging and listening closely. The story was a sad one, and Amalia felt a pang in her heart for the sisters and the hunter.

What a sad story. I could never steal a husband from Austria. I would feel awful. Do you think they will think on it? Or do you think hate will stew within them forever?

Amalia stared up at the three sisters, and nodded. She would continue to strive to be as good as she could, as kind as she could. No matter the circumstances.