Ouroboros Spine I walk my days on a wire

The scent on the wind reminded Raimo of the forest he had crossed in coming here. It differed only vaguely from the black-barked forest of this mountain, not enough to earn much of a reaction from him. One of his ears turned upon hearing something rustle in the branches overhead and when he finally opened his eyes, the sight of a ginger-coated stranger prompted him to raise his head.

Having been laying on his side in a shaft of winterlight, Raimo adjusted so he was in more a sphinx-pose. He stretched his forelimbs out as if to reach towards them and splay his toes, listening for the satisfaction of his elbows popping; then, settling again, he crossed one limb over the other.

Are you from the star-struck mountain? He asked of the stranger, sounding more indifferent than anything. Raimo watched them carefully and noted their size and gangliness, which told him all he really needed. Young, small, not a threat.