The Sunspire Lost girl

A howl burst through the spires.

She'd done it! It had been weeks, really. It had been even longer since she had last seen her aapa, her aaka, her brother, her sister, so she had made a home out of the lake. The lake girl had been her aaka, in a way. Zharille had been both nurturing and vicious, and many nights had been spent sobbing away until the reflection in the water looked less like her face. They spoke few words, so Nutuyikruk had practiced every day in isolation to not forget them, just like her mama and papa would have wanted.

She never found her aapa. Aaka never found her.

So, she had put her efforts into climbing, and the young babe proudly reached the peak with a triumphant call of joy, even if all alone.

muskrat struck, hard and true.

not to hurt, nor maim; the raider blanched from the shadows and grabbed for the child.

if teeth found purchase, she would begin to drag the growing body in the direction of the ridge, teeth tightening with a promise of hurt around the little nape.

Her call was interrupted by the harsh cry that curdled from her throat.

It was fear that fueled the awful noise, and a belief of pain that was not there. All gangly limbs pulled inwards and hung tightly while being dragged. She'd hardly caught face of the stranger. The gentle melody of home played in her head, even now, singing her away in gentle lullaby. They put her to bed every night, every morning, and sang even in her waking moments. Out her mouth spoke a different reality, all the while, her mind sang away with the white noise of music. "I'n sssoorry! I'n sor-sorry! Sorry! I sn-n-sorry!" Jumbled words with tears that fell near instantly as she cried the dramatics.

her muscles burned before she paused; before she rested. along the mossdraped edge of the shadowland did she call a halt, shoving the girl roughly to the ground and standing over her.

there was nothing maternal in the raider, but there was no design to harm. "no sorry. give name," muskrat demanded, crouching. "give name. i give food."

her voice was softer then.

"I NAME-" Gasping, her knuckles clenched to her chest. The tufts of the girl's ears smoothed down firmly. Mouth open, and then a mutter with a wiggling lip.
 "N-Nuuuutu."

More wobbly sniffles, and then the name stretched out. "Yi-kruk." Both bleary eyes tried to make out the golden face of the woman, and for a moment truly believed they were aaka. No came despite that thought, even with every memory of family blurring over.

All the more sniffles and hiccups, breath shakily stalling in the girl's throat. Outstretching towards the stranger by nose, then quickly meeting the ground again at the head, a new question rolled out kindly. "What y-your name?"

muskrat attempted the name in the same two parts, and then together. "what mean?" the wiry woman asked, inquisitiveness surging.

"i muskrat." her eyes glinted in the half light. "i take you to shadow ridge. hex leader there. give home. no more wander."

she did not ask if the girl had a place. why would she be away from it? in muskrat's mind, here huddled a future warrior in the tenebrous hold.

"My name mean.. Uhhh!" What did it mean? Oh, it fluttered away. Growing lost in the head, the stranger would have to wait a moment. Nutu was trying very hard. "UHH!" The singular star in the girls head turned back on! "Big- Big lynx!" Nutu wasn't very big yet. Or a lynx, for that matter.

Tearstained, they needed to suck up now to give Muskrat all the attention they deserved. It was very important to listen. Never again would she turn her ears away. It was also very rude to make someone feel bad about their name, so not a word was peeped at 'Muskrat'. Muskrat's parents might not have loved her to don that name, and that was very, very sad. Maybe that was why they were so angry.

Zharille was no longer so welcoming after the birth of her children, and though there was Moss and the lady's man, she had never felt more alone. A home, and her voice shattered with a plea. "A h-hoome? Really?"

lynx. muskrat was unsure she knew this word, but it had the sound of ferocity to it. "my clan have name swamp panthers, hm?" she offered with a growing commiseration.

an idle shrug of her shoulders accompanied a confident nod. "yes. we make new place. you help. have home." nutu yikuruk's wandering could be work.

she stepped back. "you follow now. walk." her neck hurt; muskrat did not want to carry the young wolf any further.

"Swamp panther people," rolled a whisper.
Images flashed of crocodilian wolves with gnarled faces and beastly fur. Wildcat people with warrior might and will under the veils of a frightening darkness.

The world shifted once more, and a door opened. Nutu did not know how many had closed.

Rising behind Muskrat, every pad melted into the ground behind the front legs of the woman with each step. "Don't remember my people's name," she admitted. Another distant memory.

A final look casted over her shoulder to the lake in the great distance, and she felt the feeling of goodbye again. It hurt again.

No more wander.

"I comin'," said Nutu. "I comin'."