Ouroboros Spine uivigginattuk ⋬

long after raimo had departed did kukutux sit rigidly as morning rose, feathering the sky in a palette of watercolor brushing. 

her mouth tasted of metal, and the duck realized that she had bitten the inside of her jawline. but she sat with the tang of it souring darkly upon her tongue. she cursed herself for a fool, and heard at last the tread of tooteega just behind. 

daughter.

i am not a daughter any longer. i am anaa to moonglow. 

the grey muzzle of the first wisdom among women, dipping, though the eyes glowed with an ageless glint. 

how will you keep him close? what will bring him back? you must choose one or the other.

no! and the thought seared fiercely through the edge of her mind, a thrown spear that lanced and drew a purpled rush of pride. i will not choose.

tooteega scoffed, offering no more words, but she did not leave kukutux. the old men said that the power of a woman in certain times could corrupt even their spells, mother, the moondrop breathed to the ancient one. this is a secret of theirs that is known to me. so i will guard our secrets. and i will discover theirs.

but i will not choose.

selfishness, choking her salt-hot and welcome; kukutux cut a hole in her spirit and poured the sensation dull and low beneath her own skin. i have lost much. i will make no more sacrifice. i choose moonglow. i choose myself.