Moonsong Glacier If we run into red full speed

Once she had finished visiting Moonglow, she took one look toward the peak in the distance- intended to be her home- and then looked North, into the dark woodlands that she knew was a neutral territory that separated Moonglow from the new pack of Moonsong. Little drove her to return to her home; others roved, it seemed, and quite freely. She had felt lonely since she had joined the pack, but had begun to find some solace in meeting wolves from the other packs belonging to the sisterhood. 

Her den could wait. She thought perhaps only Seal would notice that she had been gone for a couple days, but she doubted it would cause any trouble. They asked so little of her, that she felt it was in her own best interest to become more familiar with the other packs. 

She roamed through the forest for the evening and through the night, arriving to find cool winds sweeping toward her from the great ice glacier. Another cold place- though its slopes seemed not quite as steep as those of Moonspear. She had hunted a snowshoe hare in the forest, and brought it with her, hoping it might ameliorate her impression if she showed up with a gift. 

She still felt a bit uneasy simply crossing the borders into another pack, and yet she did so anyway- it was their custom, and it was one she would grow accustomed to once she began to meet more of the wolves that belonged to this expansive family.

There had been much to do in the past several days, between the hunt and necessary preparations for his impending departure. He was anxious to be on his way and yet also worried to leave; it was true that the pack had gotten alone just fine without him before, but he still did not trust it entirely to remain whole in his absence.

So he hunted still, and he haunted the borders with his dark ears pricked and a gleam of intention in his eyes.

It was lucky that his nose worked far better than his eyes. He smelled Moonglow on her before he saw her, and it gave him a moment to relax the telltale quilling at his scruff. But perhaps the strange but unassuming figure she cut would have been enough to settle him if the wind had been in her favor — he paused for a moment as his gaze fell on her, arrested just briefly by a fit of fancy. He had spoken teasingly of selkies to Raiyuk, but there was a part of him that believes in his tall tales of fae and alien creatures. This young woman appeared that way for a long moment, sunlight catching in the pale gold of her fur. But in the next breath her loveliness was just that: beauty, great but entirely natural.

"Shaanti ho," he called out, his voice more subdued than usual. He navigated a rocky outcropping to draw bear and stand level with her, and then provided then the translation: "Peace be. I welcome you to Moonsong."

Her tall, tufted ears pricked, and a moment later, she peered curiously over her shoulder to catch sight of the wolf who had called out to her. Her paws skirted, so she would face him, and her tail swayed with the movement- but continued waving as she took in the sight of a man, primed with seasons enough to give him lofty shoulders and a strong jaw. She nearly dropped the rabbit for a moment, catching it before it could slip more than an inch from her mouth. She envied the thick mantle of fur at his shoulders, where the fur still stood slightly prickled; he would not feel the cold winds of winter with a coat like that. 

She drew toward him as well, lowering her head to place her kill on the ground only to raise it with a sudden jerk at the sound of two, very familiar- and familial- words. 

Peace be.

She looked for a moment a little bit queasy, snaking her head as she searched his features for some hint of familiarity, taking in his scent with soft, short inhales. She blinked several times, trying to ease some of the disbelief from her features, and struggled to pull an apologetic smile as she remembered her manners. 

"Peace be," She returned. Her ears- still flicking forward and back as if to mirror her racing thoughts, a dead giveaway that she was suspicious of something. "Thank you, I-" She said, forcing herself to turn both of her tattletail ears to flick back in deference, and to keep them from fidgeting. "I- sorry- I have heard...Only a few who greet with 'peace be,'" She admitted. "I...Don't know if...I know you?"

The panther noticed this stranger's discomfort, but in the moment, chalked it up to his impressive physique. Many were wary of him before they got to know him; this was the natural order of things. So he did not come too close to the woman. Far enough that she might feel confident in her ability to dodge him, were he to lunge.

"Have you?" he replied, bemused. When he thought about it, he realized it was not the most common greeting — but he was also sure he'd never met this woman, and fairly sure that she was not one of his line. "I believe I would remember if we had met before," he told her, his burnished gaze flicking over her very memorable form. "My name is Dutch. I traveled south for many moons to come to this place."

He could not help but watch the quiver of her pointed ears. She reminded him of a hare gone very still with fear when she pinned them back against her skull. This idea brought a faint smile to his face, but her discomfort kept this from turning to a fully fledged grin.

"You are from Moonglow?" he asked her, though now that he was closer, he was not so sure.

His confidence caused her to flounder, though in a sheepish, amenable way. His question was pointed and yet warm, and she knew in an instant that nothing about him was familiar to her. The uniqueness of her parentage made her family almost instantly recognizeable. Before her, however, was a creature purely wild- massive, but unmistakably wolf.

She had come to know the men of this area as being solid both in build and demeanour, and Dutch was no exception to this observation. From the North, he too was used to cold country- something she shouldered with all the toughness of an Irish shawl.

She lowered her muzzle and shook her head in a dainty no. Apology came with the flagging of her tufted ears, shocked she had accused him of being familiar. 

”I am-“ She responded, though her voice caught. Wordlessly, her mind continued thinking of leaving it, though. She blushed. She could no longer use the “I’m new” excuse, either. She had simply found herself feeling isolated and avoided on the mountain, prompting her to search for warmth from its friendly sister packs. ”Simbelmyne,” She concluded, a moment later.

A little laugh escaped him, more out of surprise than anything. He hadn't meant to castigate, but perhaps he had spoken more strongly than he thought.

"Not that I wouldn't like to know you," he assured her, and then his ears popped to attention at her name: "Simbelmyne — I have heard this name."

He looked at her with new eyes, although he remembered wondering at Chakliux's motives, still. There was a chance that this was a prank meant to embarrass him, although he could not see it going over too poorly. Even so, he hesitated a moment longer before commiting to his trust of the the other man.

"A seal hunter made it known to me," he said, and then he gentled the rakish grin that the memory brought to his face. "He said that you were shy, but that I am gentle."

He had said more than this, of course.

Was this what it was like to be desired? She had seen men look at her sisters in this way, and while she had been happy for them, it had always come at her own expense. Often overlooked for her timid nature, Simbelmyne felt herself warm and melt like a candle beneath a flame to finally receive such attention for herself. There were no others who could snatch it from her now- no sisters whose bell-like laughter could cant his ears, or whose elegant movements could drag his eyes from her. 

She blinked in surprise to hear that her name had come before her. Surely, she thought, no one on Moonspear had sent word of her- she had shared so few words with any of them that it seemed impossible that her reputation might have travelled more swiftly to the other packs than she had. She had only just departed Moonglow, which left only a couple options- and she blushed when she realized that it was the men who had been talking of her. Specifically, Chakliux. 

She smiled, almost privately, to think that perhaps Chakliux had hoped she might meet this man- though she was still under the impression that she should discuss the matter of choosing first with the other women. 

"I am," She said, but there was a friendly smile at her lips and a faint wave to her tail. Her ears, at last, lifted. He claimed to be gentle; with his size, she could only hope that he was. "And are you?" She asked, flirting with a bat of her lashes.

The panther had always appreciated women who grew rather than shrank before him. Simbelmyne's shy nature was endearing, but moreso was the way that she bloomed and pitched a coquettish question in return.

"Shy?" he asked, purposefully misunderstanding the question. "Yes, this is what I am known for."

But this was in jest, of course. No one had ever accused him of being shy. And, certainly, he did not seem shy as he prowled closer still, measuring her height and the length of her body from this closer vantage. Her ears, too, received a curious sweep of his eyes before his gaze flashed back down to her black-smudged face.

"But perhaps you will make me brave, sunflower girl," he said with another bright smile, turning and inviting her to walk beside him. "Come — Moonsong will feed you."

He led her toward their common place, where there was still meat from their caribou hunt to be eaten. His steps were measured, however, so that even her shorter legs could assume a leisurely pace.

"There are many sights to see around our village," he told her. "Will you allow me show you? The seal pool, at least. And if my company still pleases you, the glacier cave."

She pursed her lips and exhaled, the corners of her eyes wreathed with smile lines at his coy response. A little warning at the back of her mind reminded her that he had avoided assuring her that she was gentle, in order to make a joke. She was good-humoured herself, and dismissed the doubt. She preferred to think he was simply in search of laughter, and he would be rewarded with a soft, near-breathless laugh. 

He came closer and she reached out with her muzzle, lengthening her posture, pushing her whiskers forward so that she might take in not only his scent, but those he bore with him as well, tangled in his fur. She kept a slight distance between them, a sliver of space so that the light could deke through. He won a brazen flick of her gaze when he spoke again; she doubted he would need to rely on anyone else to make him brave. Her brow lifted when she was given a nickame that she felt was dainty, but palatable. She moved along at his side willingly, still allowing the wind to split between them. 

"Yes, I would like to see," She said, over the soft crunch of footsteps on snow. "Will there be seals?" She asked, her gaze brightening. Her grandmother and mother had told tales of such creatures, but she had always struggled to imagine what they might actually look like. "My family told stories of seals," She admitted, as if to explain why she might look so suddenly interested.

"There should be," he replied, his tail swinging as he recalled the day that Chakliux had visited with Raiyuk. "We can bring them an offering of meat to entice them closer," he suggested. And then he laughed, delighted by this new thought: "Only, you must keep this secret from Chakliux and his son. I don't know how they feel about feeding their food."

Their common place, where they ate together at times, was not far. Far enough, however, that the panther's ears pinged upward once more.

"Stories?" he asked, his tone just short of casual. There was bright, almost childish intrigue in his eyes. "Will you tell me one? I will trade you something for it, if I must. Only name your price."

He wondered if Simbelmyne knew what Chakliux had said about her. If it was true at all. A woman like this would not need to seek a man — a good one would surely be attracted by her beauty and demeanor, would they not? He decided that this must have been an impish trick on the seal hunter's part, perhaps meant to bring them together with this subterfuge. He congratulated himself on figuring this out before he'd made too much of a fool of himself — for he was happy enough to keep Simbelmyne's company, and did not want to risk losing it so early on.

But perhaps Chakliux was on to something — perhaps she could be convinced.

References from here, continuing some of KJ's lore <3 You'll be familiar with that thread hehe!

She tried to bring to her memory the last image she had conjured of the animals. She had listened with sharp ears to the stories her mother passed to her, which had passed through many generations by the time they reached Simbelmyne and her siblings. The most distinguishing feature of course was their fins- something almost impossible to imagine on something that was otherwise described as being somewhat wolf-like, but with small ears, large, round eyes, whiskers like porcupine quills and a body that was round and tapered. Hind legs drawn together in a whale-tail, though having never seen a whale, her image was further confounded by the explanation. In her mind it had existed as somewhat of a cryptid, despite all assurance that unlike the Wendigo and Ogopogo, seals and sea lions actually existed. 

While it delighted her to think she might get to see one up close, she also felt lightly discouraged by the idea that offering the sea lions meat might offend Chakliux. "No secrets, please," Both apologetic and pleading, she hoped to gently reject the notion of feeding the creatures if it would bring disappointment to those who hunted the animals. She would not risk her own reputation for the favour of a man she had only just met, if it meant distancing herself from one she knew if only a fraction more. 

He asked for what contribution he should make to earn a story- and the thought of asking him to consider his willingness to be one of a few considered for her First Rite made her stomach clench. It was an option, of course- and for him she thought it might be a win-win deal. Still; she lived with the notion that such things should be decided by the women of the pack. She felt it was up to someone like Sialuk or Kukutux to decide for her, who would be best. 

She knew so little of these ways- so it seemed best to tread as if on thin ice. 

"You offer welcome, and the sight of seals," A polite acknowledgement of his hospitality would do, she thought. "I am...Not storyteller; just a keeper of words from many generations." Others had been far more gifted with words than she. Thessa, Hyssup and Skip had all taken effortlessly to telling stories and singing songs. 

"My family are sea-people, from Vargas Island. There, are sea lions; but once- long, long ago- both wolf and sea lion were one animal, one creature." She explained. "We, wolves- we come from water, and roam inland; grow long legs, long faces, claws and feet. We hunt deer, rabbit, elk- only keeping some webbing between toes as reminder of our life before." Her pulse quickened; she wondered if he would dismiss the theory altogether, or if he might take some offense that these stories existed at all. Nervously, she continued. "But some do not wander so far; their legs stay as flippers, and they swim and hunt in ocean. They breathe air, give birth to live pups; sun themselves on stones, sleep on ice. Not fish, not whale. Unique," She said.

"So we...For long time, do not hunt sea lions; distant cousins, though they may have forgotten too." She said. After all, she had been warned that they could be violent and dangerous- not to be trifled with. They too had long fangs for catching the large fish that swam in deep, salty waters. "Only under red moon, Hunter's Moon do we hunt. When moon is full of blood of fallen. We consume our past to perpetuate our future," She recited. 

Suddenly, she grew sheepish, as if ashamed by the tales of her folk. She knew Chakliux to be a specialist in seal-hunting, and expected that perhaps the other wolves of the sister packs also viewed the creatures not as a distant cousin, but as a valuable source of food. She summoned a half-hearted smile. "It is...Folk tales. I know seal hunting is important, here." And she was trying her best to accept their ways.

Dutch's fun was not spoiled by this denial. He would rather moon wolves eat this meat than sacrifice it to their seal-cousins — something Dutch had come to view almost as pets. Not the kind you petted and fed dinner scraps. More like delicate tropical fish that were pretty to look at but not to be touched. The idea of the seal hunters coming for them made him just a little sad — but more for the possibility that it might scare them all off, rather than for the life of one that might be lost to feed more moon wolves.

"I am sure I will be riveted nonetheless," Dutch assured her, and he meant it most sincerely.

Since she seemed so excited, he decided they could leave the meal for afterward. He shifted unobtrusively to head in that direction instead, listening intently to the tale that Simbelmyne weaved. A few different things stuck out to him — mainly that he knew that island. His mother had been there before, although she had not brought this story back with her. He tucked that thought away for later thought, instead focusing on the actual story.

"Seal hunting is important to me only because it is important to Chakliux," the panther admitted. They were drawing close to the lake, now — he could smell them, but he could not hear their barks. "Your folklore is just as important as his. There are many histories gathered here — and I think it is important to relate to other creatures. We are all children of the earth."

They came to the same observation rock as he'd shown the seal hunters. They did not disturb their sea brothers from this height, but they were still close enough to get a good view. And a good smell, if one could call it that.

"They are fish eaters," he said to Simbelmyne as he settled on the rock, his head and paws hanging over the ledge while his bunched hind legs anchored him. It was not far to fall, and he rather thought that the sunning seals below would make a great cushion. "They will eat meat if they find it, but they are not made to hunt land-creatures. You can swim in these waters as long as you keep away from them while the male is in the water."

Dutch pointed out the largest of the creatures, which had eyed them briefly before going right back to sleep.

"He is protective of his wives and children" he said. "But they are curious and playful. And underwater, they sing strange, lovely songs."

They were fascinating to Dutch as well. He had only rarely gotten up the nerve to swim among them — and he had not yet tried with these seals in particular.

Dutch proved himself willing to not only attend the folk tales of many, but to support them even when they began to contrast. She was relieved that he did not find her story ridiculous, or frown upon her people for avoiding the chance to hunt seals. She wondered what Chakliux might think- and her heartbeat quickened to hear his name mentioned again- but she knew that it would likely not become an issue. The story was a story, and only that; while her ancestors might have avoided eating sealmeat, she would not partake in that tradition, especially now that it might mean going against new traditions she hoped to adopt. 

"Chakliux was right," She said, with a faint smile. "You are gentle." And a gentleman, she thought. Courteous and welcoming, he was a statue of a man, and she was beginning to find herself less and less willing to accept him as the one who might be chosen for her First Rite; if it meant having to distance herself from the one chosen...She began to wish that perhaps the one chosen might be a complete stranger to her. 

Her breath faltered when she saw the grand expanse of water for the first time. And for a few moments, while she listened to Dutch's voice, she did not even glance down at the creatures below, as she was completely smitten with the sight of the terrifyingly huge ocean. The scent was marvellous; fresh and pungent, and she drank it in, insatiable. 

When she did look down, she emitted a soft gasp, and stepped nearer to Dutch. Though there was no way the seals could reach them, she thought them fearsome nonetheless when she saw one yawn, and reveal long, thick teeth. He had settled to the ground and shakily, she lowered herself behind him, resting her jaw on the ledge, inching closer still when she spotted the male. Without lifting her head, she tilted it so that she could look up at him, her eyes wide with shock. 

"You would swim with those?!" She asked, her voice an excited whisper. There was both admiration and horror in her gaze; surely, a wolf could not outmaneuver such a creature in the water. And what was to stop them from going after a wolf as a meal, if they could simply grab them by one ankle and drag them below? He said that they could sing, as well, and she looked up at him, measuring him now as some kind of hero. "You have done this? Gone swimming with them, and heard their songs?"

I believe the seals are just in a lake fed by glaciermelt that feeds into the ocean via river!

Simbelmyne was not as quiet of a girl as Dutch had first taken her to be, but he saw that much of her dynamic nature still lived under the surface. He wondered what thoughts must be lurking behind her wide, moonlike eyes, and was gratified when she called him gentle — suggesting that it was him, at least in part, that had brought so thoughtful a look to her face.

He didn't answer beyond a laugh. They were there at the lake already, and the woman seemed enthralled by the expanse of water. Dutch thought it rather beautiful as well, and was as happy as ever to fill the silence with soft chatter.

"They do not eat wolves," he reassured her. "You should always be careful — but more of the waves and the tides than of the seals themselves. They are gentle as long as you keep your distance. Many will come up to you and have just as much fun watching you as you have watching them."

He stretched and laid a little flatter, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could watch Simbelmyne and the seals at the same time. 

"I have not tried swimming with these seals yet," he admitted. "But I will, when the weather is warmer. The ones that I swam with lived in a lagoon on the coast, far north of this place. There is a pack of sea-faring wolves who taught me about them. They are like your story — they do not hunt their seal-brethren."

His gaze focused more on Simbelmyne than the seals, now. He liked the sparkle of wonder in her eyes, even if he did not think swimming with seals was at all impressive. He hoped she would try it at some point, preferably with him there to participate! But he did not consider it to be much of a stunt.

"Will you tell me about where you grew up?" he asked her.

lol this makes so much more sense- I've even seen them swimming upriver from the ocean before but didn't put two and two together XD

For creatures that did not eat wolves, they had teeth that looked as though they could do the job, effortlessly. When one yawned, she noted the shape of their teeth- and how similar they seemed to be to the shape of bear teeth, or cougar teeth- a bit rounder than wolf teeth. She suspected that there was some amount of power in their jaw as well, though if they were truly fish eaters, they might not have as much bite power as a wolf. 

Their eyes were curious, but without ears or tails, she wondered if she would be able to tell when one of them was angry. She supposed they might communicate with a show of teeth; that would be a warning that she could heed easily enough. 

"You are brave," She said, though part of her wanted to call him foolish as well...But this was a thing that seemed to be familiar to him- a tradition, perhaps. Something others had done before him, and they had obviously learned from those experiences. He mentioned sea-faring wolves and she thought of the island her family had once called home- but could not think on it for long. 

He asked her about her family. 

She nodded; a bit shy to speak about herself, but willing nonetheless. "I come from a pack that lives far inland; in the land of tall trees," She said. "A family pack- established by my mother, though- she was born in these parts in a pack called Undersea." She spoke reverently, mirroring the tone her mother had used when she had spoken of her birthplace. "I have a big family...Nine sisters, one brother, two siblings. Many of them married, but I..." She said, trailing off. She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders as she mustered a smile. "A bit lost in the crowd."

Brave! Ha! he wanted to say, My cousin is brave. I am Dutch.

But he did not really want to talk about his cousin. Or, at least, he did not want to talk about that cousin. He listened for hints of her own lineage instead, and with a sinking feeling, he recognized one word in particular.

Undersea.

"I am sure you will marry quickly in this land, if that is among your desires," Dutch replied, his smile rakish. Then he felt just a little strange; just a little guilty. For there were two connections between their families, and the closest of the two was a bad one. He wavered for a moment, but in the end, he told her: "I know where this island is. Undersea."

He stood, stretching his back after the protracted crouch. His eyes were on the seals, but his mind was turned inward, turbulent.

"You and I are of no relation," he said to her, "But after my grandmother, my grandfather married a spiritwalker. A selkie. Her name was Catori Corten, kin to the island wolves. I have an aunt and two uncles from that union. And the spirtwalker treated my mother like her own child. They visited the island together. It has been pointed out to me."

He looked to Smbelmyne only now to gauge her reaction.

Her smile waned. She had desired to marry in her homeland- but two years had passed, and the few eligible bachelors who had joined the pack had not given her more than a brief glance. Her sisters had laughter that rang like bell chimes; they danced with proud steps, sang with clear, buoyant voices. 

She wondered for a moment if he was hinting that she should return home, and she wilted slightly, as if shunned. She shook her head softly; no, she did not want to go back and wait for more years to pass, for her other sisters to marry yet again before her. She was merely a simple songbird among a swarm of sirens, all better poised than she to attract attention.

When he mentioned Undersea, she let go of her momentary disappointment and perked her tufted ears. He stretched, adding a bit of mystique. She sat up as well, as if chasing him for information.

She recognized the surname Corten. It was not one which had been passed down to her, but she was not far removed. Catori, she thought, must be of her own grandmother’s generation or perhaps even further back. She was pleased to hear, though, that she had been kind to her step-children. ”It is from her that you learn to say “Peace be”?” She asked then. Finally, that little notion of familiarity had wound its way to the surface.

She was not upset — Dutch wasn't sure why he'd expected her to be, when he had shared only the nice story of their familes' history. The panther pushed this guilt away; he was not his father, and he had no obligation to answer for his father's sins.

"I didn't know her," he replied, regretful. "In my family, most say only peace or hail or howdy — " This last option was relayed in a fun accent — "They say peace be where I swam with seals. Blackmouth-by-the-Sea. Their mother spent time at Undersea. She was a guard to their children, then. Now she lives far from here, with her many daughters and grandaughters."

He tipped his head to the side, the gesture somewhere between invitation and insistence as he stepped away from the ledge.

"Come — next I will show you the glacier cave," he told her, some of his earlier excitement returning to him with a few dizzying sweeps of his tail. "Your inland home — did you get much snow? Is there ice like this?"

The glacier was in plain view as they approached, the top so high they had to crane their necks to see it. White Spine had oft been covered in ice and snow, but they had not had glaciers. Dutch was mightily impressed with this one, and he hoped that Simbelmyne would be, too.

"I grew up with only my sister and one older cousin," he told her, thinking back on her description of her homelife. "My mother raised us mostly by herself, up in the high mountains. We did not want for attention, but — " He huffed out a little laugh and turned another glit-eyed smile on her. "Well — there was no crowd to be lost in, and no beautiful visitors to be lost by." His teeth showed in a tiny sliver of white. "I am glad now not to have many brothers vying for your attention."

She was surprised to learn that it was her family, too, who had been those who swam with seals. Of course, she had been told stories of selkies, but she and her littermates had been skeptical of such things. She didn’t know what a Spiritwalker was but she assumed it was another cryptid of sorts, or a name for a wolf who had some connection with the mysterious. 

She moved to follow him. ”Not as much, no,” She admitted. ”And the cold it…The mountain is unbearable,” she admitted sheepishly. She had not been built for this- and now, she was wandering from her home, searching for a place which would be more hospitable. 

He mentioned his home and his family, and jested about his brothers. ”It is a pity; I would like to see them and how they measure up to you,” She laughed softly. Timidly, she spoke again. ”Though…I must confess. I was given your name once before, Dutch. By Kukutux.” She said.

She judged him to be amiable, intelligent, gentle and invested. ”She mentioned your name when I asked her to tell me who to find for my First Rites.”

It made sense that a sunflower creature such as herself would shun the cold. He could see her amongst the sea-faring women, now that he thought about it — but he pictured her most readily in a sun-dappled woodland, blooming below windows in the canopy.

"Ah," said the panther, a contrite smile on his face, "Then you may not like this. But we will not linger there — and it will be pleasing to your eyes, even if it is not pleasing to your paws."

He laughed at her teasing, thinking of the two boys he'd last seen upon the spine. They would be yearlings, now, but he did not think she would be terribly impressed by them. "I am taller," he told her, importantly. And then, seeming to relent: "For now, at least."

They drew nearer to the mouth of the cave, walking now alongside the snowmelt stream. It ran clear in the shallows, and a pale, milky blue in the depths. Dutch was mesmerized by the color every time he came here, but there were greater treasures to look upon past the mouth of the cave, which opened like a maw just ahead of them. His steps slowed, though, at the name of Kukutux. He looked at Simbelmyne fully, then, rather than splitting his attention between her and the jewel-like waters.

"Mine?" he said, surprised to hear this — for moonwoman knew what path his heart must take. He was humble enough to consider that it was he himself who did not know, but it was not in his heart to test this out on a woman like Simbelmyne. He hadn't thought it would be in Kukutux's heart, either. But this was not marriage, but First Rites — something he was not sure he knew the meaning of, even if certain context clues clicked easily enough into place.

"Perhaps this is what Chakliux meant when he gave your name to me," the panther said, deciding that the truth might be better than more obfuscation, even if it was just a little crass. "I do not know these First Rites. I am not of the seal hunters or the sunshine people. But if it pleases you, Simbelmyne, then I am eager to learn."

The glacier cave must have some reason to have made it onto his list of things to show her. She couldn’t really imagine it being anything other than a giant, freezing cave, which would be both dark and cold, but perhaps there might be something she would have overlooked; some reason it had become a thing of beauty. 

It flattered her to know that Chakliux had spoken of her, and her cheeks warmed. But he had not told the man much- and to be honest, Simbelmyne knew very little as well. 

”I am ready to know the touch of man. I am past the age where most bear their first children, and I would like to marry but- but first, I would paint my feet red…and become a woman.” In her tone, the light question; would he be interested?

Heat shot down the panther's spine and suffused his body at these simple words; his intrigue was clear, but part of him still wondered at the implications of such a thing. He had to be careful here, if his permanent place was to be among these people. Some missteps were not easily overlooked.

"You are a woman already," he told her, because he did not think a man was needed to make this distinction — but his voice was warm, and his gaze was admiring as it was drawn again to her gold-clad figure. "In the tradition of my people. And a woman is free to seek pleasure wheresoever she desires. If you seek it here — "

He flashed a little smile, appearing bashful for a heartbeat.

"Then it is as our seal hunter has said. I am gentle." He dared to come a little closer, and to speak quiet words against a tufted ear: "And I am eager, and I am generous."

But!

"Come look," he implored, ducking into the mouth of the cave — which was just high enough for Simbelmyne to enter with only the fluff of her ears in danger of knocking against it.

It was dark in the mouth of the cave, but ahead, there was an eerie blue glow.

"I think sometimes that this must be what it is like deep below the waves," he said on the way down the short, narrow passage. It was wide enough for two wolves to walk side-by-side, with enough room for a third to squeeze past them if necessary. But around a slight curve, the passage opened up into a vaulted cavern. Winter sunlight filtered frosty blue through the highest points, and then much deeper glacial blue in the areas where the ice walls were thicker. They cast shadows through dim rays of tourmaline sunlight, and the trickling water cast reflection that danced like fish on every surface.

"Perhaps a seal hunter could tell us," he suggested, still gazing up at the show in wonder.

She tried not to frown; by age, she was a woman, and yet most men had overlooked her. Dutch couldn't understand what it was like, she thought- it was not men's place to know the minds and hearts of women completely. She had seen the way Kukutux's features had lit up when she had spoken of her own coming-of-age, and rite of passage. Simbelmyne didn't care that she was old enough to be considered a woman- she wanted what Kukutux had experienced. A true understanding of all of herself- some parts would come with the assistance of a man. 

For a moment, he hovered near her ear, and whispered words that flushed her belly with warmth. She gasped softly, and felt assured. The longing she felt- it was unquenched. She felt absolutely certain that she would feel differently afterwards-

but then he drew away, and tried to renew her interest in a cave. She huffed lightly. No, be patient, she told herself- but she couldn't help but by irritated. How dare he rile her up like that, and then take her on a tour of a cave?? It was much smaller than she had expected it to be, and willingly ducked her head to slip inside, but the chill immediately quieted the restless, wanting spirit that had awakened moments ago. Her fur lifted when they walked through the deep blue of the tunnel, and emerged into a much larger bowl, where light filtered in softly. Dutch's voice resonated. 

She resented him a little bit less, now; it was a beautiful sight. 

He mentioned seal-hunters and she flicked her ears. 

She tilted her head back and- not wanting to disturb the ice, she softly uttered a low, ullulating "OoooooooOOOOOUUUUuuuuuuuu," Her voice gently rising and falling a third, before she stopped, and perked her ears to hear the natural reverb. 

She looked to him again, her expression warmed again. Her tail waved; encouraging him to sing softly as well.

They looked to each other almost at the same time. Dutch laughed, his breath misting, and then lifted his muzzle to croon a low note toward the high reaches of the dome. The ice seemed to him around them.

He stepped closer to her, sitting back on his haunches and lifting a paw in invitation.

"I will keep you warm," he offered, a bright spark in his burnished gaze implying a second meaning. But his smile was coquettish, almost — and still just a little shy. They had spoken only in hypotheticals, so far as he could tell. It would be embarrassing to presume she would choose him for this task and find he was only a contender. But, if he was a contender, he wanted to show himself a strong one.

He sang to her, soft and low, the lyrics of a song that lingered always somewhere on the border of tender and profane.

The sound of his voice spread and filled the chamber, lingering long after his singing had stopped. Amused at this new aspect of wonder, Simbelmyne sidled closer, to sit next to his side, giving him a quick glance before she slid a touch closer- so she could feel the low vibrations of his voice as he sang. His song washed all around them, circling and hanging on the air as if it might be multiple wolves singing in a round. His words were clear enough- and more than once, she felt her cheeks burn. 

He had given her time- he had expressed himself as being willing. And as she planned soon to make a voyage to Moontide- it perhaps might be the perfect time to make her choice. 

"I will come to you," She said, decidedly.