Ouroboros Spine 'cause girl, i'm on a mission

going to backdate this a bit to before the doe pelt thread for the sake of timelines.

with the antler tine task complete, rhaegal makes his way to moonglow with the first of his bride price. originally, he'd intended to take them both together, but more thought on it led him to delivering them one at a time.

his pace slows as he nears moonglow's borders; afternoon sun lighting along his back. he stops when he's a respectful distance away, sets the antler rack down and sends up a call for @Vairë.

Her head shot up.

The doe had been in the middle of adding a thick furred hare to the cache, but it slipped from her teeth as she turned, hitting the ground with a meaty thud. Her cry of joy could be heard resounding through the village as an answer to the call from the border.

Eventually, she would come into sight, bounding much like the deer she so embodied, the red fox pelt slung over her shoulders like it was every morning it grew cold, though she had added an extra layer in a weasel fur curled around her lower throat like a wealthy woman’s stole.

Rhaegal! Would come her bouncy call as she drew closer, before she came to a halt just outside the village borders, breath coming in fitful pants.

You're back! She didnt even notice the antler, too busy taking in the sight of her intended with brand new eyes, it felt. Checking him for wounds, for anything that could have harmed him in her absence.

it is not long before vairë greets him, his name on her tongue causing his heart to shift into overdrive. it thrums loudly in his chest, and his tail wags with joy to see her.

there was a lot of personal exploration the two of them had to do, but to say he was excited to learn who she was, what she liked and every little detail he could would be an understatement.

aye, he rumbles, shifting his weight slightly to favor his right shoulder, to give the left one a break and not reopen the wound from the very antler rack at his paws. it's real good tae see you, vairë. he tells her; a bit shyly.

oh, he draws in a soft breath as he remembers the antler rack at his paws. this is for you. the first half of your bride price. he motions towards it with his muzzle, taking a small, ghosting step back as if to give the antlers the spotlight.

She couldn't help the urge to giggle, one of her legs lifting to fold over her nose. Embarrassed, she dropped the leg soon after, though it didn’t stop her tail from wagging.

Her eyes lifted from the antler to the wound on his shoulder. Her face fell, and her mouth dropped open.

You’re hurt! The antler abandoned at her feet, she steps over the sharp tines with careful precision to put her face close to Rhaegal’s shoulder. The multicolored hues flashed between point a and point b, Vairë sucking her lip between her teeth to chew on.

ack, rhaegal makes a noncommittal noise deep in his throat. `s but a scratch. he attempts to brush it off, though he is acutely aware of how hard his heart slams within it's prison of flesh and blood with her so close.

in truth, it didn't even hurt anymore, so long as he was careful not to reopen what had already tentatively scabbed.

`m alright, i promise. he aims to reassure her.

For her part, Vairë did not look convinced. Her face fell into a deep frown, and her head turned to look at the shoulder again.

She backed up after a second, ears already starting to turn back.

Wounds left untreated can get infected. She stated, knowing Rhaegal probably already knew this, but throwing it out there anyway.

Come. I know some healing. She hadnt spent all of that time in the healers den being idle.

She picked up the antler and began to stride into Moonglow proper.

rhaegal can tell, by the briefest of glimpses at her face, that he hadn't convinced her. a suspicion proven to him to be correct by her following words. though he wants to argue that he doesn't wished to be fussed over: he does not.

already, he's learning when to pick and choose battles.

it wouldn't hurt to let her tend to the wound: and he's eager to make her happy.

the last thing he wanted to do was mess this up. not now and not when they were wed.

he follows after her, shaking off the hesitation he feels at stepping over moonglow's borders despite that vairë invited him. he stays close to her as she leads the way, gaze taking in the spine, so very different from dragoncrest cliffs.

She led the way with a bobbing, upright tail, through the village and towards the dens she had spent so long languishing in. For a moment, she wondered if the area still held her sick-scent in its clutches.

She stopped outside of them, placing the antler with gentle care at her feet.

These are healing dens. There was no sour-sick scent, she didn't smell any at least, so she slipped into the herb stores, returning with dried bits stuck in her ruff and a few dried herbs in her mouth.

Would you mind telling me of your hunt while I work? I wish to know how you took down brother deer. She said, taking a seat beside the larger man.

edit. you get my 100th post!

she leads him to the healing dens, and rhaegal's gaze survey's the area, settling down into a sphinx like position, angling his left shoulder towards her with the thought that it might be easier for her to heal him.

the curve of the spine's mountains gives rhaegal the impression of being closed in and he fights against the creeping claustrophobia threatening to paralyze him.

he doesn't have to live by the sea, though arguably he believed that the sea brought up hale and hearty children, but he definitely couldn't live any place where the land seemed to close in on him.

she asks him how he took down the stag, and rhaegal, all too grateful from the distraction from the soft buzzing beginning in his ears the longer he obsessed over his claustrophobia obliges. i dinnae do it alone, he admits. the stag was older, had a limp. a bairn — a young lass — he offers in translation. she joined my hunt. helped me take it down.

Omg yaaay! Congrats!

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting Rhaegal’s accent wrap around her ears before she let out a small sigh.

I am glad of this. That you came back to me. She said, dipping her head to press her nose between the taller man’s ears. Then, she pulled back, spreading the poultice she had been making onto the wound.

I am sorry if it stings. She said, tail curving softly.

..didae think i wouldnae? rhaegal asks, drawing his head to the side slightly after she lifted her nose from between his ears, trying to remember to be still for her as she spreads her cocktail of medicines upon his wound.

it stings slightly but rhaegal does his best not to wince. still, he does, if slightly.

aye, its alright. he assures her. there is a pause, a small hesitance from the seadragon before he breaks his silence, asking quietly, do you like the antlers? which had, admittedly, been his biggest worry thus far.

Vairë hummed a short, musical note, a smile on her face as she looked down at the antler.

I do..I really do. Eight tines, a great feat. Showing much skill. The more tines the deer had, she knew, the older the deer was. To take an old stag, was to allow a younger stag to continue the diversified genetics. Whoever this stag was, his death allowed life to thrive.

She took a step up over Rhaegal’s back, settling down on his uninjured side and leaning against his shoulder.

..it was a three pointed antler that did this. She murmured, gesturing to her face.

We are both deer-marked now.

rhaegal is relieved that she likes the antlers; not realizing just how much that worry had been eating at him until she verbally soothes it. the thought of him failing to gather what she named as her price, at someoneelse completing the task and being wed to her breathes to life something ugly and twisting in his belly that he does best to chase off.

one down. one more to go.

the seadragon slow blinks, golden gaze taking in her face, the lovely dappling of freckles. the scar. it only adds tae yer beauty. rhaegal doesn't mean to sound so cheesy, but he's, at least, sincere.

a soft chuckle brews in his chest. aye, these land animals are more vicious than those of the sea! he teases, drawing a soft sigh as she settles on his non-injured side. sharks and orcas were said tae be the most fierce of the sea but i've nae been hurt by either. then again, he doubted he'd survive a tango with an orca or a shark...or even get out far enough in the sea to brush by one.

If she’d had the ability to do so, she knew she would have blushed. As it was, her skin warmed beneath the thick beige fur, and she looked away for a moment in shyness. Though, she did lean closer on Rhaegal’s shoulder.

I have known of herbivores to be most vicious. Perhaps the worst would be the boar. She muses aloud, before she goes quiet. Then, she speaks.

To make your own home..where would you go? Back to the coast? Would she be raising children in lands wrapped in seafoam and salt-scent? She almost hoped so, despite her mild aversion to fish. But, well..she’d never had saltwater fish.

hmm, drawls rhageal in consideration. he'd hunted deer before, and goats, and other small woodland critters ...but that was when he traveled from the island to the mainland and that was maybe three times a year. meares island had been self sustaining for the wolves that call it home: leaving hadn't been necessary.

note tae self, a soft noise leaves him as he gently places some weight upon his injured shoulder with a wince turned into a boyish grin as the poultice spreads and stings. watch out for boars.

well, rhaegal drawls. it'll be our home. a place for us tae raise our bairns, making the decision for her didn't sit right with the sveijarn. he would consider what she wanted, too. i believe tae sea raises hale and hearty bairns, but he was biased towards the coast. but tell me what ye believe, vairë. if ye close your eyes and imagine our home, our bairns...what — where — do ye see?

The thought of children, the way he speaks of them, it fills her with an odd shiver. Vairë was knowledgeable, she knew how children were made but..well. She had never exactly lain with a man quite yet.

She pushed the thought away, to the other side of her brain.

The doe closed her eyes, letting the sounds of Moonglow fade away.

What do you see?

She sees lapping waves, a bright sunshine across her own face. She sees the shapes of children, older ones helping the younger ones into the surf. She sees a forest, a beach. She knows many things in that moment, but she smiles to think of them.

A future on the bay. That is what I see. There were many bays, she thought, but their perfect bay was out there somewhere.

Would you make a pack? Or have us as our own? Were they to just be a family group? Or would others come to them as leaders?

a bay.

he hasn't explored too terribly much of the wilds' coast but ...finding the bay she envisions, that was something they could search for together. part of him feels guilty for knowing that he would be leaving sapphique so soon but the topaz hopes it could be at least an amicable parting.

but for now, he doesn't think about that.

it would be a bridge he needs to be cross soon and he would be honest with them when it came time to cross it.

a bay, rhaegal murmurs in contemplation and agreement; timbre whiskey steeped in smoke. when we are wed, perhaps we can spend our honeymoon lookin' for the one you picture. rhaegal suggests. i havenae spent much time explorin' the coast. he admits; sheepish. but at any rate, exploring it with vairë sounds much more fun than going at it by his lonesome.

my focus will be our family, rhaegal gives a soft pause, a thoughtful flick of his nontorn ear. if others come, i willnae turn them away. his plan: build their family and then build around that.

Post 100 for you!

She smiles at that, lost in a vision of their perfect future together. The part of her that is for realism begs her to be less idealistic, but she cannot help it. Vairë is still the same girl who would scribble a wedding in a notebook, down to the dress she wanted, even now that she was a woman.

Or close to being one, at the very least.

Her riverstone eyes watched her stag, listening to the timbre of his voice.

That sounds like a plan to me. She said, cheerful, before a sudden sweep of boldness took her. The doe reached out to cover one of Rhaegal’s paws with her own smaller one.

Would you like to stay the night? It is a long way from the coast to here. You must be tired? There was a shy, yet coy quality to the doe, and even after she had said it she couldn't believe she did.

aw, yay! congrats! <3

rhaegal's gaze moves down to their paws as she places hers atop his. he studies them for a moment, studying the difference of fur color, of the size. he finds it incredibly endearing.

aye. rhaegal murmurs as she appears to be on board with his idea of how they might spend their honeymoon. he's a bit nervous, if only because while had come to the wilds with the intention of settling down, starting a family and shining outside the looming shadow of his father ...rhaegal hadn't expected this.

any of it.

he hadn't expected to be apart of her search for a husband, hadn't expected to be chosen. hadn't expected that, despite that it was 'arranged' he'd enjoy her presence as he does, nor that he would feel as boyish as he did.

his gaze flickers back up to her face at her question. is that allowed? pops to the forefront of his mind but he bites it back. surely, if it wasn't ...she wouldn't have asked. aye, that'd be nice. it was a long trip. thank you.

He was on board.

Vairë fought the urge to chew on her lip. She was going to do this, and she was going to do this right. It would never hurt to be prepared to sleep beside her husband when they were wed.

She stood, in a single fluid motion. She thanked all the spirits that her grace had not failed her in this moment as she slowly turned, drawing the tip of her tail beneath the taller man’s chin.

I have dug an ulaq near to here. She said, a little smile on her face.

I would like you to stay there, with me, if you are amenable.

for a moment, rhaegal is almost bashful. strange, because he is no green bairn without any experience. he's shared sleeping spaces — and more — with lasses before. but this? this was different, he argues to himself. the soft flutter of nerves in his throat is because he didn't want to mess this up.

she was going to be his doewife.

it is only as she mentions her ulag — a strange word he takes to mean den — that he remembers the reality he'd forgotten, being so wrapped up in her and getting to know her: that he was in another pack's claim.

still, he trusts that if his being here — spending the night — was an issue she wouldn't have asked.

aye, rhaegal rumbles in both agreement and acceptance.

He agreed, and she flicked her tail back up from under his chin. Internally, she was sweating, as much as a wolf could do such a thing. Vairë bent her head to pluck up the antler, hearing the faint, scratchy sound of ivory meeting bone. Then, off she bounded across the snow, fleet as a hare.

It was only when she was several feet away that she would turn, mouth still wrapped around the antler, and duck her front low. And, with a playful sneeze and a quick back and forth dart, she would bolt away, just as fleet as ever.

the brush of her tail beneath his chin elicits a delicious shiver that slithers down rhaegal's spine. the sveijarn pushes himself to his paws, giving a soft shake of his pelt as she grabs the antler and bounds forth.

again, there was a small feeling of hesitance wrapped in the thrill that felt like a teenager sneaking out of his parents' house to spend the hours beneath the sweet moonbeams with his girl.

there was a small sense that he was committing an act of rebellion if because he was of sapphique and this was moonglow's claim.

he bounds after vairë; lighthearted, boyishly playful and high off the thrill.

She would lead a merry chase, darting from the healing dens out into the open expanses of Moonglow’s claim.

Muffled giggling could be heard over the rush of wind in her ears, her own giggling, as she ran, only slowing for a second to bounce in a circle and readjust her grip on the antler, before she was off again. Vairë was a creature built for this, so she kept up a quick glance back over her shoulder occasionally, just to ensure that she was being followed as close as she’d like.

With that confirmed, she led the way into the grove of trees where she had spent much time wandering, curving around a rather large, old tree and seemingly vanishing. Though, she had just dipped below, into her warm, fur lined den. There, she would rest the antler beside the polished token piece she had received from her anaa.

And she would wait, eyes dancing in the dark, for her stag.