Ouroboros Spine but what about your quiet treason?

Please let @Kigipigak post first! Paging @Kukutux!

After they'd woken up, she'd thoroughly bathed herself and the children in a creek. They'd collected an offering of rabbit, vole, and mouse, and she'd wrapped the morsels in a soft beaver fur; a desperate offer and bargain for re-entry into the pack and family.

They were as ready as they could be—it would be up to the wolves of Moonglow to decide their fate. Although they were doing everything "right", she was very much aware how "wrong" they'd acted, and how those implications would factor into the decision of whether or not they'd be accepted.

Asivaq was both nervous and relieved to see Moonglow's territory again; the two conflicting emotions made her stomach churn uncomfortably. She worried her bottom lip as they stood on the borders, as she delayed the inevitable. If she wanted to return—which she did!—she knew she'd have to request her mother's presence. She wasn't sure how Kukutux would react, and while she wasn't emotionally prepared, she knew that this was the right thing to do. Especially for the children. They deserved a stable home, and she knew that Moonglow could give that to them.

Thank you, she breathed as she reached up and preened her husband's chin. And ... I am sorry. She would offer no further explination. Instead, she lifted her head and crooned for her mother.

Anaa, she howled, I am here.

Through all of their struggles Kigipigak kept his support there for his wife, his Issumatar; even as they neared Moonglow and a certain strain descended upon them. The children kept him preoccupied - Sisamat in particular had started to show signs of resistance and exhaustion, which Kigipigak should have held patience for - and while he wrangled the children together the family neared the village.

Asivaq moved to comfort him, or herself. To make a bid for connection which oddly, Kigipigak did not feel. He listened to her apology but said nothing. Now he had been stripped of another village, built another family only to watch it struggle. Was it fate that demanded this? Was he making wives of the wrong women? He struggled with his thoughts.

He loved Asivaq; he knew that, he was empowered by that. But if his mother saw him today with his alienated sons, missing ex-wife, exhausted children and a present wife struggling with self-doubt, he knew he would be disowned.

Taking a breath, he reaches for Asivaq and spares her a chaste kiss to the cheek, and then stands in wait with the children between them, expecting only the worst from Kukutux; the words of Meerkat still ringing in his mind, exacerbating his doubts.

the daylight filtered through the leaves of oak. 

she had lain there after another loving time with @Aiolos, her body serene in the warmth of the greening day. small bees dotted the verdant grass, gathering among the tinier dots of whitepetaled flowers. in time the duck stretched luxuriously and rose with a soft grin to take up the tasks once more. she felt young, near girlish, as she approached the path which led to the ulax.

moondoe would have already wakened with her daughters; her mother would soon join her, to ease vairë from the den for a rest and a drink of water. there were voices upon the wind, and soon the sound of children would join them.

laughter floated from the lake. she breathed out in peace and let her mind touch the places where she kept the sea-going-girl and her shining-water babe. often did kukutux think of them, even if her mind forced its acceptance and kept her forward.

weddings to plan. had galana grown more than a youthful eye for that slender redhawk man? peregrine was built like otter, kukutux decided, steps swaying as she —

anaa, i am here.

the small paw lifted in movement stilled; kukutux became a carving of snow for a moment.

but you knew who it is.

and you hoped she would return.

tooteega smirked.

a daughter returns to her mother. are those not the words that came to you the day that kivaluk said he would leave with chickadee? it was a prayer, my snow bird woman.

"ariadne?" questioning aloud, mouth shutting hard on what the spirits had given.

kukutux whirled and ran down the path. this hard-packed trail of dirt, so many things it had known! and it had known the step of kigipigak and her daughter once more, on an ill-fated ask for bride price and acceptance among the sunshine people.

now she would have given it! now she knew her part in the separation, and the beat of her heart thrummed in forgiveness asked from the one who had come back.

her heart pounded; yes; yes! there was ariadne, standing beside a dour winterhawk; and yes! aya! little ones! her eyes blurred so much that she did not see their expressions, only slowed long enough to pull ariadne into her arms, laughing in disbelief as the tears came. she was here! she was whole! where had she gone? but she was alive, she was here.

only when she drew back to appraise her daughter did the laughter fade; she glanced between ariadne and kigigpigak, and felt the harsh knife-thrust of something into the ribcage of the moment.

"what has happened?" what had taken the light from her girl? what had eaten the flesh from her face, her arms? the children; so young! why were they here?

the mother held back her questions, eyes worried and relieved and loving upon the daughter.

Asivaq began to cry when Kukutux came into sight, already feeling her mother's love from afar. When they came together, she pulled her closer, never wanting to let go, and drowned her senses in the scent of Moonglow—of home.

Anaa, she croaked. So much—you have new grandchildren! She laughed despite it all! This is @Atausiq, @Malguk, and @Sisamat! She touched each of the children on the top of their heads, placing a kiss between their ears as they were introduced. There ... was another ... but he went to the dancing lights not long ago. And from there, the happiness drained from her face. Little fox is what I call him, now.

What had happened? She breathed deeply, readying herself to recount all the ways in which she had failed.

Kigipigak built our own village south of here, and things were going well for a while. Stratos even joined us! But then little fox went to the dancing lights, and another pack settled next to ours. Kigipigak was forced to act as a constant guardian after that—they kept trespassing, and he did everything he could to keep us safe. She looked up at him, flashing an appreciative look. Things never let up, and we both were ... drained. I tried to do what I could, but it was useless. I .... Failed. Was not the best leader. She'd never been the best leader. We decided to move, hoping to come home ... and now we are here.

We would like to join Moonglow, if you will have us, anaa.

What would he do if they were not welcome? Kigipigak focused on this to avoid his deeper troubles, but this brought to mind other issues he had put aside in favor of Napatuqvik; standing here upon the border of Moonglow, he remembered the last time the pair had been here together, the shame, the judgement. He could not forsee Kukutux refusing her daughter or the children - but he wondered now if he was welcome. He wondered also if he could put aside his Tartokian pride in order to submit to the Sunshine People.

Kukutux came running; Asivaq was all tears, happy to see her mother, exhausted by the turmoil of recent days, and each tear was like a stain upon Kigipigak's spirit. He saw how young she was now. How the forest had eaten away at her. How shattered she was by everything - and knew he had done his best but, this girl did not need her husband, she needed her mother.

He stood back and waited as Asivaq spilled forth the various failures of her man, the crumbling of their village. Although she looked appreciatively to Kigipigak the man steeled against it, and reflexively looked to the children. He did not speak as he felt it was not his place to; and besides that, he could hide his feelings by doing his job as a father.

Skippable unless directly addressed, she’ll leave after one round unless spoken to >:) Tags for ref!

Caring for three daughters was a difficulty, but she had @Valiant . Where before she had not had anyone, she now had husband. It was a gentle life, quiet. This soft morning, she had just pulled @Lariat into her arms, draping the babe in her tongue to prepare her for the day. @Nantahala she had already cleaned, and her fierce little lily had not taken it for a second. Her last born, her ferocious lightning girl, was the last. Vairë sung a gentle song to herself as she cleaned her children.

A lilt, on the breeze.

Vairë stiffened.

Betrayer! Old Doe trumpeted, the slash of her muzzle through the air seeming like the crash of thunder. 

Her cloud-water sister. 

Vairë left the girls with Valiant.

With every step, Old Doe’s hooves haunted her tracks.

She left you. That was the angry girl in her chest, the manifestation of the rage she had known before the deer.

She abandoned her herd. Old Doe seethed. Moondoe flattened her ears against their tirade.

She is my sister.

Abandoner! Just like the dove and the sea-hawk!

Betrayer!

Deceiver!

Disgrace!

She hissed, sharply, to shut them up.

A white pelt, a ginger one. Anaa was there first. And in front of her..

Vairë’s jaw clamped tight. Strings of drool gathered unwillingly against her lips. She was vaguely aware that her lungs were moving, she was breathing fast, but nothing was returning to her lungs. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face the sister who had wanted to be there for her, and yet left. Who had promised to be there for her children, but had found some quality lacking. She was Moondoe, now, stepping ever closer to becoming moonwoman in her own right, but this she could not do.

This, she was scared of.

Vairë turned to leave, her legs shaking with every step.. She never should have left the girls.

the dancing lights.

twice ariadne had said this, as if kukutux too should not pause, that she should only go on with their words as if — as if,

and because ariadne had gone away before she had learned the way of spirit names, it was unlikely that the little one had been bound to the dancing lights before his soul lifted from his body.

by the ways of the sunshine people, he was lost.

a crying wail built in her throat, but she pushed it down; caught a sob, looked to the children with misted eyes which already loved them all. atausiq, cloaked in bark-hues; goldbrown malguk with bright eyes; and the granite boy sisamat.

ariadne spoke of herself as a poor leader and the words of greeting died on the tongue of moonmother. who had taught her such offal? slowly as she recounted all the ways in which her daughter had not been kept safe, kukutux found she was unable to even glance in the direction of silent kigipigak, for fear the hatred would leap from her gaze and spoil this return.

this man had already abandoned so much and built nothing, who had taken her daughter far from her people, a far trek from the sight of her! this man who could not handle his role as husband and protector without her own son at his side; this man had let her grandchild die, and all for his own spite of her, and this she believed so fiercely that it became a talisman to kukutux.

vairë came then, and spoke softly, but such a storm was upon the face of the moondoe that the duck felt pained to see it. 

"i welcome you home." oh! past the rage and the pain and the seething ire that wanted to dance upon her limbs, kukutux pushed, shoved. kigipigak was to blame for all this; she would ruin no more of her time with ariadne over him. irritated though she was at the — were they naming-words? counting-sounds? — foreign names of her grandchildren, enraged that their unnecessary distance from the moon villages had cost them a baby, disgusted by how threats had not been kept from her daughter — on and on, until she shut the thoughts down and harshly away.

surely he too grieved. surely he too had been punished enough for his chosen path. she only wished that ariadne had been spared the pain of such learning. 

her daughter had come back. her three children were whole. healing could be had. the family opened its love once more and it was as all must be. 

"there are things to be said, daughter, but not now. not until you have slept many hours and filled your bellies. come," and kukutux still did not look at the man she had once called winterhawk. "come to the ulax. i will tell you all that has gone on."

and then the family must speak, or moreover, the sisters must speak. mending now could be done.

the duck's mind settled upon the thorn of kigipigak. she was tired of tears shed on behalf of his ambition, unrelenting in her cold refusal to contemplate his own agonies. she remembered the brokenness of sakhmet and the anger of kivaluk, and was glad suddenly that the young hunter and his wife had left. 

what stopped the duck from allowing herself to soften was the burnt-black memory of how he had flaunted himself and her girl together in the woodland, how he had done so on purpose. his arrogance had cost her daughter a great deal. moonmother meant to see that repaid.

tucking close to the side of ariadne, kukutux looked down at the children. "i greet you, little ones. your mother is my daughter. this means that i am your anânsiak."

"Aaka," she whispered. "Aaka," she whispered again. To her mama, she called her again, and again, before the speakings of the adults. The woman in white and then, her Aaka, and her Aapa, who their child fumbled the 'p' with a clumsy 'b'. Nonsense, meaningless words from their mouths, and words she did not understand. Malguk, she went out of her way to look to her mama and say again, again. "Aaka," in her starry whispers.

Oh, how she did not understand their talk and their voices, so she said, "Aaka." Repetitive, annoying, misunderstanding, and lost. Grating to the greeting and the tears, the pain now, the memories now that were shared. Malguk tried to understand.

When Aaka did not work, when mommy was busy, it was then to her daddy that she wished to cling to. Mommy was busy. Mommy, busy. "Aaba." With her paw, pawing at his leg, and as the time went on, the beg in her voice rumbling. "Aaba." It was with a final "Aaba," a gasp of air as she did not time her speaking with her breathing, that her attention was turned by the touch of her mama.

The woman in white with sparkling eyes spoke to them, in which Malguk could see her own in as a mimic, the child gasped again. Stiff, awkward, but the woman in white watched. Malguk didn't know how to express awe. "Anâaaasi.." Anânsiak.

This place was not home. It was so far from home and Sisamat did not know how to feel about it; worse, he was hungrier than he had ever been, and his whole body ached - although for the most part he had been carried, when let down he had run hard to keep up with his mother and father.

The stranger that came was familiar because they looked like Kigipigak and smelled like Asivaq. He took one look at her though and turned his attention to the other children, standing tall and defensive as if to guard them. Malguk was calling for attention and he moved to comfort her, and found some comfort there too as he nested close.

Asivaq moved to comfort Kukutux, briefly pulling her close again and squeezing her before letting go. I am sorry, she said quietly, holding back her own tears. I tried everything I could ... and it wasn't enough. She was never enough, no matter how hard she tried.

Had she known the truth, it would've broken her; it was another failure to add to the growing list.

Speaking of which—Vairë arrived soon after, only to turn and make her leave. Asivaq felt her heart grow cold, and she watched as her sister walked away. It was a taste of what was to come. She would seek to repair more than a handful of relations and find that some were unfixable, ruined because of her choices; more failures added to the growing list.

Kukutux then welcomed them home, and Asivaq breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, anaa—I will find you in the morning, she said, voice swept in emotion as she reached down and nudged her children. Welcome home, babies.

She was ready to collapse, but that time would come later after they were settled, and she looked at Kigipigak then, wondering what was on his mind. He had been quiet and distant, but part of her was expecting this. She knew—or at least she trusted—he would privately tell her his thoughts when they were alone again.

thank you for letting me slip this in!

Aiolos was just as quiet as Vaire. Never had Aiolos been as swift as his mate and as Kukutux rushed after her daughter's calling, Aiolos make quick pace after her there.

Though not yet in sight, ginger ears would pick up Ariadne's words: her children's names, their struggles when settling, the death of a child... Kigipigak was quiet. Vaire, too, as he noticed her stalk away. 

Ariadne turned her back on the Sunshine people, as though they were no longer family and she no longer welcome. Sje abandoned the pack she had created and her people struggled for it. Even her name was not her own, which Aiolos would find out in time, in the favor of her Tartokian husband, surely. Yet it was not Tartok who failed- it was Kigipigak- again and again and again and this time, it was Aiolos' grandson which suffered the consequences. 
 
Ariadne, my beautiful daughter... His breath is a coo, stepping forward to press himself against his daughter in embrace once they had begun making way towards the ulaq. Aiolos would follow them, would sniff his new grandchildren as they went to form a familiarity with them, and all the while did not pass Kigipigak a single glance.