Ouroboros Spine never love an anchor

You raise three children alone.

Old doe, spun with stars.

Your husband has left you, fawn child. He seeks the unseekable, perhaps. Or maybe he hunts for others. These things are not for you to know.

Vairë, breath shuddering with the nightmare she had woken from, freshly untangled from her children and her ulaq. Night air tangled in her fur, stars reflected on the tears in her eyes.

I know this.

I know you do. Doe, stepping now in front of her. Suddenly, she did not seem so old. She lowered her head to look her in her eye.

Your sister is Head of her village. Yet she is being courted by a man twice even your age. The question is not what you know, doespirit. It is what you will do.

She stepped away.

Vairë looked up at the stars.

I do not know.

Doe did not answer. The stars did not answer. No one answered, and she sat with that quiet for a long time.

He was awake, but it was late. This wasn't typical of the boy who played hard and slept deeply; yet here he was, looking for what was missing - his mother. He had nosed around the den in search of Vaire and only found her scent, which he followed.

He found her quickly enough. She was talking to someone that he couldn't see; this was funny, so he began to laugh and the giggle would easily alert Vaire to her son.

Anaa? What doing?

A little giggle alerted her to the brown form of her eldest, and she turned her head to give him an affectionate swipe of her tongue up the side of his head.

Don’t wake your siblings, Salaksartok. She whispered, as though what she was about to share was some great secret.

I’m watching for the story stars. She had only the barest understanding of them, from a brief lesson while out of the wilds, but it was enough to pass to her son.

Oh, shhhh. He hushed himself, mimicking the behavior of countless adults when Sal was being unruly, and tip-toed closer to his mother. He plopped down (half on her toes) and looked up.

Story stars? He peeped in a stage whisper, expecting her to explain.

Yes! Her exclamation, though quiet, was still ringing in the stillness of night. She reached out to gently tug her son close to her, resting a paw on his shoulder as she used the same paw to point to the stars.

An old wolf, just outside these lands, told me of them. They are heroes honored, villains given ultimate punishment. Look, there. Do you see those stars, three in a row? She paused, waiting for Salaksartok to find said stars.

A great hunter’s spirit lives there. He is Orion, and he hunted great beasts before he was stars.