Ouroboros Spine vii. and scrub between the cracks.

insomnia strikes again so this is forward dated to 04/15/2023. <333

 

she could not have forgotten this place. 

the way home had eluded her, the name and times a jumble of mismatched pieces. her memory had been torn full of holes. 

but these mountains had haunted her dreams. 

much like in the forest, lótë found she could only stand and observe as emotion of all shape and size roiled like whitewater of the qeya beneath her flesh. 

things would be different, this much she knew. but to what end? 

did they hate her?

had the death songs been sung? 

the scents upon the border were both familiar and not. this was to be expected, however. much could change in such a small amount of time and the dove couldn't pinpoint how long she'd been gone. long enough, at least. 

faced with the sudden moment she'd been seeking for nearly a year, aiwë found she almost couldn't bring herself to call out to the village. fear abounded, her heart pounding as she gazed up at the heights of the spine. 

she didn't think she could survive it if they turned her away. to be seen as a spirit, to be death-cursed and incorporeal to those she loved, was surely a fate worse than true death.

as it was, the herd-stalker could think of nowhere else she could or wanted to go. moonglow and its sister villages, the ones within, were all she had. (aside, of course, from saviguk and a briefly met kinsmen named @Sandulf.) 

yet. her children were here. somewhere. even without their scents upon the land, lótë knew this was the one place they would all eventually return to. 

she howled. wordless. only a tentative ? that in no way could summarize all the things she wished to say.

!!! <3

sakhmet had gone.

kukutux did not believe she would have left galana. she sent @Kivaluk and @Aiolos to search for her often, and when she could, moonwoman too joined the searching.

in quiet love she continued to feed the girl with her body alongside her brothers. with sivullik and her husband she left them this day, for she heard a voice lifting, lilting; and she saw how in mercy tooteega had led away her wife and returned a sister.

she ran; breathless; the deerskin wrap flung from her shoulders. "lótë," ah, ah; aya; she felt tears warm upon her face. "vairë has married. you come back to the village in a time of joy."

she was different, and yet she was not, and still they both had been changed by many things.

If any assumptions are inaccurate, let me know and I will modify! <3

The pale Dove did not travel alone. With her, on this fated day, another trailed behind. In the eyes of some, he truly may be considered a living spectre. Perhaps forgotten. Or worse, cursed upon his return to the world of the living.

But Lote had guided him. Advised him. Cautious was he now, for the reception he might receive. Only through Lote, did he find his way here.

Home. And not.

If she was nervous, then the boy, grown into a man, was petrified. Of rejection. Of eternal curse, shunned from the life he could have had. Regardless of what happened, time and again, did he assure Lote he would remain  close, if she too, were turned away.

Where she raised her voice, he did not. He hung back as she did. Taking his time to catch up, taking in the newness of the Spine. Only after heard the voice of Ana, did his heart lurch. Then, so painfully slowly, revealed himself. Crawling forward, belly scraping stone. Dark ears plastered back against a ring of gold sand. Teal stone eyes locked, lowered. Scarred leg baring the tale of whence the legend spirit of the deep had gripped him, to pull him away.

for one blissful moment, in the time it took kukutux to reach her and the two to crush each other close, lótë forgot. 

she forgot to be scared of the newness that faced her within the mountains. she forgot her terror of the death songs -- for herself and savi. misplaced all she'd missed out on. 

there was only relief that cracked through her like a sob. she clung to the duck, her words little more than a stumbling litany. 

imsorryimsorryimsosorry

and all the things she could not find the words for. 'i love you. i missed you. i tried so hard to get back.'

"it is good to see your face," she croaked at last, a somewhat embarrassed laugh breaking free of her as aiwë pulled back. her own face was streaked with the flow of tears. 

"she is here -- vairë? and the others? fjall? wil? ló? ink?" the words were a desperate gasp she could not stop. a silent plea was sent to tootega, to the spirits. to anyone who might listen. 

so desperate was she that for a moment she had even forgotten about the two-year who hung back -- the sand-kissed shadow melting forward beside her. guilt struck her, especially upon watching the way his gaze fell from nieninquë's. 

lótë shifted, lowering ever so slightly to touch her muzzle to saviguk's shoulder. a sign of solidarity. she would not abandon him either, should he be turned away. 

"there was an accident in the mountains. fjall was still weaning. i was lost. fjall was lost." her words were for kukutux -- an explanation. 

"the spirits led me to saviguk on my way home."

lótë's soft voice tugged weakly at kukutux, but moonwoman's eyes were fixed with a sharp intake of breath upon the face that appeared beside the strained shoulder of her sister.

kukutux was still.

silent.

and in her leapt and churned a hundred words, a thousand things.

first, anger; anger that her sister should speak a name she had forbidden herself for many years. fear to hear it uttered aloud —

"i sang for him!" came the shatter of her voice, dropping laceweave and fearsome into the odd silent. "now you wear his face, and you come to my village."

the jadestone eyes darkened; her breathing quickened, tears racing in crazed quietude along her face. "you come here, you deceive a woman of nuiruk clan to bring you?"

an inhale, jagged with horrible pain; his sinew, his bone, his flesh, his blood; the pine-pith of him, burned away with the great fire upon the mountain!

wait, daughter. tooteega's voice as she sank down before the tupilak which wore the face of her first husband —

second. do not forget the seal hunter boy

the graveyard of unsaid names which had found their night sleeping in his spirit.

the moon-hunter boy, pulling death from his marrow in the year his sister wakened the mountain again.

kukutux could not touch him, only stare down into the ostrega-eyes as her heart galloped with caribou fleetness. he was not him, she told herself in fierce resolution.

moonwoman straightened. she called for @Kivaluk, bidding him bring @Sialuk at once. for @Aiolos, that lótë had returned. "vairë seeks a new home with her husband," at last she told her sister. "my daughter brought @Fjall back here. i do not know where he has gone, but the star hunter of this village will know. rest at my ulaq."

her voice was empty. she turned back to again stare at the spirit who was not her son.

"you will be asked for again. do not come into the village or i will tear the skin you wear off your ghost bones."

there was no hope her son had returned. and yet kukutux felt hope simmering violent and violet inside her. she turned away, meaning to address her sister. "if this is — if it is he, then the sister borne beside him will know. she is the only other of us who has seen this face."

Cameo, at least for now. Can maybe have a side thread with Lote later as she makes way to the den?

There was a deep pounding in his chest the moment the familiar voice filled the skies, echoed off the low-laying mountains of Moonglow. Aiolos wanted to go to the call, whined under his breath to do so, yet without Sakhmet here and Shikoba to watch her own litter, Aiolos and new Firsthunter remained behind to guard the new lives in Nuiruk's hollow. 

And then, another call, one of Kukutux, demanding the move of Kivaluk, to run quickly with news to Moonspear to bring its Alpha. Aiolos lifts up, restless, pacing now at the den's opening. Go, quickly! He ushers Firsthunter to make way as Aiolos is left with no options but to wait patiently. It is only the call of Lote's return does his spirit lighten, his heart pounding- both worried and happy. Second Wife has returned.

Sialuk arrived with worry on her face and in her heart. She was swift at @Kivaluk's side, though she was not familiar with him. It was anaa's call she answered today, and when she laid eyes upon the black wolf—no, ghost!—Sialuk inhaled sharply. Her eyes bore into him only a second before she moved past him, embracing her mother.

He cannot be, she said, her voice caught in her throat. We sang for him!

a lil cameo. feel free to skip! <3

he arrives with sialuk, as commanded by his anaa.

to kivaluk, who knows not what is truly going on: it feels like chaos.

awkwardly ( a common theme for the melonii-natigvik ) he lingers nearby, by out of the immediate gathering: waiting for either another task or dismissal; silvery-champagne gaze watching the strange woman and man.

@Lote, sorry for posting out of order. I can edit if need be.

In just a few short minutes, his world shattered. Came crashing down around him, like the star on Moonspear long ago. 

His mother, unaccepting. Harsh, icy. Threatened to peel his skin away. Deemed him a spectre. 

His sister. Arrived by Ana's summons. She too, looked upon him with unwilling eyes.

Both of their words, each syllable in their voice, stung. Cut him, as if he were some cursed creature.

All his fears, a reality.

Saviguk was not known for his temper. He had always been mild mannered. A patient male, more so than others out there.

Here, now, he began to fray. He simmered, wanting to be angry with them. To proclaim their wrongs, to question their reasons. To stand and argue his case. Force them to see, with the proof they did not have.

But he did not. Would not. On his face, none of his anger or betrayal showed to any of those present. No emotion whatsoever, other than hurt and guilt, in his eyes. To act impulsively, to show his emotions, he believed, would only further instill their affirmed belief.

So he was silent, saying nothing. No words for the family that was no longer his. He would not argue. Would not plead his case when he felt they would not be moved. He wondered now, what Lote thought as she was invited to rest in the village.

Lifting himself up, his eyes lingered from one face to the next. Silent but not bitter, speaking a thousand words. Then, as silently as he came, the Ostrega turned to leave.

*Exit Saviguk unless stopped.*

lótë winced. a dark tendril of guilt and shame rolled through her. it had been unwise to use his name. but she had no other title for kukutux's son. 

they both fell silent in the face of moonwoman's anger.

the dove froze, watching in dulled horror -- wolves appearing, howls flying into the air. her worst fear brought to life as she struggled to process all that had just happened. 

for just a moment, she hesitated. she almost heeded her sister's words. a part of her longed to disappear into the village and whatever happened at the border be damned. 

"i cannot leave him," she murmured, her eyes begging for first wife's forgiveness. 

she'd traveled with saviguk. hunted and shared meals with him. she'd seen him bleed. they'd tended each other's wounds. there was too much in him that was good and kind. too much of kukutux to be an evil spirit. 

the herd-stalker doubted whether any of them had heard, as things seemed to have erupted around her. 

"wait," she felt the air burst from her lungs, as she turned towards the ostrega -- who looked ready to bolt. without waiting to see if he'd listen, her spring gaze flew back to meet the matchmaker's. 

"when i came to ask you about what had happened in moonspear, three springs ago, the yellow spirit-plant," the words fell from her lips, fast, desperate as her gaze bored into the pale leader's. pleading. "it was creeping jenny. yellow parsley. jeninnimë. parslëimme. malin."

"i am me." her words quivered and she swallowed the shake in her voice. "what can be done to prove he is he?" 

but her sister did not turn with her.

kukutux found herself shaking again as she tried not to look toward the shadow which bore the face of her first son.

but her heart was breaking within her chest.

"let him be cleansed. for nine days," she called to the tupilak as it departed, her voice steadying. "hear my words. if my son has indeed come back through the heart of sedna, i will know it."

moonwoman spoke in their words, the ones he must know if it was truly him.

she looked back to lótë. "you found one another in the wild places. it must be that you were meant to come here. his sister sialuk," and now she gestured to her pale daughter, "she woke the mountain of his birth to life again. now a spirit walks and holds the name of my son."

her voice broke, but her eyes were pleading, asking that lótë not force the loss between them again. when the time came, she would seek the dark with all her power and knowledge and know if the man was indeed flesh. but first, she must soothe her sister, give her rest.

Lote implored he wait. Reluctantly, he turned, pausing in his retreat. Peer at her as she made her case. Proving who she was. Seeking what might be done to show he was truly, flesh and bone. Silent, he held his breath while Moonwoman responded. He was to be cleansed, for nine days.

Finally, he found his voice, daring to use it for the first time so his family may hear. "If that is your will, it shall be so. I will seek the coast. Bathe in my ancestral salt waters." He proclaimed softly. Water had always been a constant feature in his life. He was connected with it, eternally. Saviguk was not blind to his distant ties to the sea, either. Maybe his words would light hope in his mother.

Sialuk, according to Moonwoman, had revived the mountain of his birth. Breathed life back into it, where many followed her lead. He wished he could have been there to have been part of it. Still, she had denied his identity. It was pointless in trying to argue. But, Saviguk did have some evidence of a potent memory. Only for a moment, his oceanic eyes landed on her right front paw, where a toe was missing. And her tail, where the kind lay. He had been there, when her body was altered in injury.

He had nothing left to say here. He would leave, and return in time.

gonna wrap this up since it's been a while so we can get this plot rolling!

aiwë was torn in two. 

kukutux's eyes begged her. lótë forced herself to look away, ears and eyes falling with regret for what must be done.

when her eyes again met the jadeite of moonwoman's, they too pleaded. 

for forgiveness. 

"my children have had you."

her chest splintered in half as she allowed her gaze to wander to the heights of the spine. longing tugged at her instinctively, urging her to disappear into the woodland -- to fall into step with her sister as she had always done.

"he has no one. no one but me." 

if she had not gone mad, if he was real, if he was truly saviguk. 

then he was her son too, through kukutux. 

she could not fail him, could not leave him to face this alone.

in a way, lótë needed to purge her own soul as well. it was not just for him that she turned away. 

she allowed herself one last glance at the family she would leave behind. 

'i'm sorry', she mouthed before following saviguk away from the mountains.