Ouroboros Spine He's heading out the door

kukutux knew she had not spoken well. but these were not holy words she could pull from memory; they were plain words. and yet she did not have them. if she were a man, she might have come forward at once to nudge him with reassurance. but she was not, and so kukutux could only remain as she was, helpless, watching the ice-giant stir. from the cavern of his throat came the thrum of words he believed in the marrow of his bones. 

the star.

she was assured. she believed that he would return. "i wish that i had the knowledge to say what must be done. but i do not. i do not know all things of what it is to be wise-woman. i learn as you do."

the star.

moonspear.

the duck's features tightened and then the greenjade eyes were misting, as much with frustration as grief. if the star had chosen him than he could not be for moonglow! it had destroyed her world; it had taken her husband and her son; he was wrong to say such, wrong —

daughter. do not be a fool. you know that is not what he means.

kukutux, head bowed before the snowhunter in desperate, wordless communion with herself. all that he had said to her since the beginning had only been true and just and good. she felt his concern for herself and sialuk to be genuine, and in light of such unveilings about raimo, she had no reason not to believe his voice. she did not want him to consider her — now you are being honest — she wanted him in his light to lead a better life. for moonglow would now always be first, before her desires.

it was the way of things. 

the one who will be firsthunter.

"for me, or for moonglow?" head lifting; raimo wanted both. let adrastus speak directly now. she would hear.