Ouroboros Spine tapsi ▓

Lótë couldn't deny that she had noticed the interactions between the wisewoman and the Spear of their village. The artisan was an astute woman, if a discreet and seldom-spoken one. Her eyes saw but her mind had long ago grown accustomed to the tradition of affording the other members of her community privacy -- a common practice that was taught with age for youngsters of Elennanórë. It had concerned her at first, considering her uneasiness around the shadow-stalker. But it was not the two-year's place to have an opinion on who her Alpha took into her bed. So long as both were in agreement and happy with the arrangement, the dove saw no reason to interfere.

The cloudberry didn't know what had happened to change things between the Moon and her night-pelted consort, only that their union seemed to have come to end -- which she could only assume was a painful transition for both. Kukutux seemed withdrawn and Raimo had been scarcely seen since the pack hunt. For a moment, the rabbit-pelted girl could see beneath the composed veil of authority the matchmaker was forced to wear and glimpsed an echo of the true hurt that had gripped her. Aiwëndil dared to lean forward, brushing her nose to the leader's cheek -- seeking to provide comfort with the small gesture.

The agouti's ears perked with interest as Kukutux went on to speak of the seawolf, Aiolos, whom she had never met. Still, the corners of her brown-rose lips curled upwards faintly with fondness to hear that someone had managed to tug at the northron's heart strings even if only feebly. "Perhaps it might work itself out in some way. Maybe Adrastus would agree with you that it would be wise to consecrate our ties with Yuèlóng if you spoke of it with him," the mousy girl suggested gently.