Ouroboros Spine foxfire

nuak has been playing, but now drew himself in strong angles away from the pelt. moonspear had been filled with rain, and if it was soon to come, the duck would welcome it as anything else.

"in this village, each dream has its meaning. they hold messages. sometimes from beyond the dancing lights." from where had he come? the duck knew now not to be so direct, for it might bring him more wariness.

visions. her own nights were at once both muted and dazzled with color. wordless, or with the heaviness of things she could not hear. the image of the ruined mountain, whole again. 

"do you know the name of boar?" she asked softly, slowly tendriling toward discovery of what in nuak would bring more words.