Ouroboros Spine momentum

I know @Vairë is on NPC, so I am paging @Kukutux & @Aiolos, but I am not picky!

He did not think the man had been speaking of Vairë. He would not blame her for taking another mate in his absence, but he doubted she'd had enough time for the inclination to strike her. He could only imagine her enraged by any man who dared to do more than admire her after the way she'd been treated by both her husbands. It filled him with shame and grief, but it did not deter him from eating up the distance between them.

No, it must have been Callyope. That was the only scent he'd recognized from the forest. He could not remember the name of the suitor she'd been entertaining when he left, but he was sure it hadn't been Solharr. It didn't surprise him that she'd traded up, however; he hadn't been impressed with her options when he left. More still would come to vie for her affection in the coming seasons — he wondered if she might still be deciding, or if the bear-man had been right about her being spoken for.

These thoughts kept him from thinking too hard about what he would find when he reached the borders. Yet, all to soon, he stood before them once more.

He did not give himself any time to think before he tipped back his head and announce his presence. He knew there was no other possible course of action. And he was ready, he thought, to face whatever reception he received. He had to be.

after moontide, kukutux had returned to her own village, as much to tend her ailing doe-daughter as it was to visit the secret place where she had kept the greenery given to her by a trader who had never returned.

she knew now why, if not the story then the conflict which surely had followed such a man and his own warriors.

three days of fasting; kukutux envisioned that cold altar and her place alone beside it.

but she had not scarcely turned from vairë when a relievingly familiar voice sounded over the bare oaken trees.

valiant.

she closed her eyes for a moment; searching.

rhaegal had abandoned vairë. valiant had disappeared in search of nutuyikruk.

a great chasm of difference was there.

she did not know if her daughter would see it so.

it was kukutux then who went to meet valiant; she did not at first speak, only drew him into motherly arms. "it is good to see your face, valiant. vairë has been beneath a sickness for a long time now."

It wasn't Vairë who came to greet him. He watched Kukutux approach with a sinking feeling in his chest even as he read her expression. He wanted Vairë — wanted her to come and sink her teeth into his hide, if she needed to. He was wary, almost, of Kukutux's embrace, but not strong enough to turn away.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he allowed himself to be held.

It was Valiant who drew away first.

"I'm sorry," he said, and the apology stuck in his throat. They seemed like such shallow, callous words to speak to the girl's grandmother, never mind to his wife. But they were words that must be spoken. "I'm so sorry. I didn't find her. But I should've been back a long time ago."

He would give explanations as asked for, but it seemed almost sacrilege not to give Vairë the chance to ask, first. Not to wait for her to decide whether or not it was good to see his face for any of the wolves here.

kukutux shook her head, brightly bitter words almost cutting from her mouth.

she soothed them; laid them to rest.

"sedna has led nutuyikruk away. many patrols were sent to find you both. she did not come back."

her heart; hurting. "but now you are here. come, valiant," moonwoman said, turning away with slowed steps up the worn path. "your wife lies in my ulaq."

she would fall back then; she meant for him to walk ahead, to see the moondoe while kukutux slowed, thinking only of nutuyikruk in anguish.

Doe, nose tucked beneath her leg.

Will you return?

There was no answer.

Doe, unyielding.

Will you return? Moondoe, sunspear, wrath of flame?

A moan from the ether.

Why? There is nothing.

Old Doe, hooves slicing through the air-.

You are foolish! You have been foolish! Your herd waits your guidance, your matriarch looks for rest, and here you are, foolish, selfish girl! Wallowing. Dying so slowly your body has not accepted it, even when your soul burns for it. Sedna will not take you so early, burning girl. Rise again. Rise anew.

Old Doe, rising.

Vairë, rising with her.

She hadn’t been comatose this entire time. There had been moments of wakefulness, even lucidity, but she was quick to dive beneath the black ice again. As though she was a seal, swallowed by dark waters. She had waited, soul listless and limp, for something that would not happen. Sedna did not take her.

Vairë remembered none of her lucid moments save this one, blinking open her eyes to find two white shapes walking her way. Her nose wrinkled, ears swaying back for a brief moment as her eyes closed, but she blinked them back open moments later.

Anaa? Her voice was a croak, barely audible, and her throat ached like a creek bed without rain.

That word — sickness had not quite settled in yet. He had imagined Vairë thin and haggard these many long weeks, plagued by the idea that he had either died or abandoned her. He did not know which he would have preferred, or if he would rather have imagined her clinging to hope that he would make it back.

Now that he'd made it, the choice seemed obvious. But it hadn't, back when he'd been praying to Ariadne to watch over them all.

But to hear that she was resting in the middle of the day, and in her mother's den no less, struck Valiant anew with dread. Of course, he knew she deserved to rest like anyone else — but he had never known her to actually do it. His eyes met moonwoman's for a fleeting moment, searching for answers he could only find at the end of this long, long road.

Valiant felt every mile of his journey as he completed the last few steps. When he saw the state of his wife, he thought he might just throw himself to the ground and join her. What else did he have the strength for? But then, crouching down close and touching his nose to her cheek, he knew he could do anything — anything — if it meant helping her feel better.

A ragged breath of relief left him when she stirred.

"She's right here, moonbeam," he said, his voice shaking. His head turned as if to look back at Kukutux, but he could not tear his eyes away from the beloved face of his wife. "Whatcha need?"

He would provide it.

They did not merge.

With every blink, the faces grew clearer, until it was her mother and-.

Valiant?

She had last known him to be gone, searching for her niece. She had last known that she had not seen him for some time. How long had he been gone, to look so haggard? How long had she been lying here, draped in a skin of sickness? Vairë searched every inch of her memory, but she couldn’t find an answer.

Slowly, she reached out one of her paws, flexing the toes when they ached, until she could rest her pad against his cheek. Confusion touched her haggard face.

It is you? Actually you? The moon tongue, it flowed from her lips easier than common in that moment. Her head tried to raise, but the muscles in her neck protested vehemently, until she rested her head back on the ground.

I saw the doe. Always the doe. Came the feverish mumble, looking out past her husband to the distant sky. What time was it? What moon?

How long had she been here?

He wanted to weep at the look in her eyes. He'd imagined this many times over, but never once had he imagined her confused. Delirious. It felt like a betrayal to come crawling back while she was ill, unable to react with a clear mind. He wished for strong, sharp-eyed Vairë, for her towering fury —

but he could not help another quiet, abortive sob of relief when she reached for him. He leaned closer to make it easier for her, his tears wetting her dry paw pads. He shuffled closer on his belly, burying his nose just briefly in the fur of her throat to breathe in her scent. He allowed himself a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and blink his tears away.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he told her, trying to ease her mind as she shifted, mumbling words he still struggled to understand. He sniffed at her muzzle, as if he might divine the source of her illness from scent alone. All he found, however, was that she was dehydrated. That seemed almost like a given, considering her state. "'Cept maybe to get you some water," he spoke the thought aloud.

Valiant did turn his head when she looked past him, but it was only the sky at his back. His attention quickly returned to Vairë, and the sorry sight of her struck him anew.

"You've been dreamin' a long time," he said, the truth of it slowly sinking in.

Her eyelashes caught in the fur of her cheek, and she made an irritated, aborted motion to sweep it away. Her eyes were still fever glazed despite the bright awareness beginning to populate them. It would be some time yet before Vairë was back to herself, but the traces were there.

Her face was still creased with confusion when Valiant moved to smell at her muzzle. The acrid taste of her own breath made her muzzle wrinkle.

That is probably a good thing. Another mumble, half a whisper, eyes flicking away from her husband to her surroundings, then back again.

Valiant? She moved a trembling paw to wipe at his tears.

Hurt? Maybe once she was feeling herself again, she’d be angry. But for now, all that mattered to her was if Valiant had come home whole.

The line of his mouth firmed, but Valiant didn't correct her. Finding her like this — he hadn't known it ought to be one of his nightmares. He should have, though. She wasn't invincible, no matter how easy she made it to believe.

He lifted his own paw to cover hers.

"I'll be right as rain in no time," he promised her, hoping she would not press. The truth was that he was still in terrible pain, and that he likely would be for some time, if not for the rest of his life. He was of the opinion, however, that none of that had to matter just yet. "I saw Nantahala and Nasamiituuq," he went on, trying to distract her. "They're both lookin' so grown and strong."

He ached to see Lightfoot and Lariat again, and Ipiktok and Salaksartok if they were around, and where were Akmaaksi and Tautukpik? He had so many questions, and he was starting to wonder if Vairë might have them, too.

"Can I go get you some water?" he asked her, his own claws digging gently into the back of her paw. He didn't want to leave her side for a moment, but he wanted her to drink. "You need it."

He was, in some way, not alright. Her eyebrows went down over her eyes to hear it, staring out past Valiant in thought, before they snapped back to his face. Her daughters. Oh, her daughters. She had heard their voices, but not seen their faces.

How long had it been?

She blinked out of her reverie with a shaky inhale.

Yes. She croaked, awareness growing stronger by the minute. Valiant looked..less than alright. She tried to get her elbows under her, but mostly succeeded in winding herself. Vairë was never a woman meant to be idle, and this whole fiasco proved it.

Then you will come back? Her voice was quiet, almost shy. As if the last thing she wanted to do was ask this question.

Valiant made a sound of protest, fretting over his wife as she tried to rise from her sickbed. "Just a minute," he cautioned, though he did not attempt to physically stop her. For better or for worse, he didn't have to.

"Right back," he assured her when asked. His tail swept the dirt behind him. "You won't even have time to miss me."

Privately, he wondered if she would still be awake when he returned. The thought made him want to stay near her, but it was more important to see her hydrated. The more she drank, he thought, the quicker she would be able to stand. That was in everyone's interest, as far as he was concerned.

He looked back to Kukutux, silently asking her to stay close. He knew he didn't need to direct her on the care of her own daughter, but sometimes, love did not leave any room for such logic. He just wanted to know that she wouldn't be alone, that someone would stand here and keep her safe and happy for the scant few minutes he was gone.

"Sit tight, okay?" he murmured, as if she could do anything else. He kissed her cheek and rose on creaky legs. "Don't move an inch!" he commanded with another whirl of his tail, anticipating that she might try again just to defy him. He plucked up a turtle shell and hurried off toward the creek. He'd been exhausted when he'd arrived at the borders, but now? He supposed it was true what they said.

Love gave you wings.