Ouroboros Spine Moon of my life

the tupilak and her wretched teeth had left healing marks beneath moonwoman's eye and across the bridge of her nose. they would heal, in time, but kukutux worried that they might also scar. and she saw now how much she had wanted to preserve the look of herself, realizing too late that she could not save it.

it was unfair; she let out her breath in a huff, and was horrified for now to be that time that aiolos called for her. the duck scrambled upright from where she had been pressing muzzle into a crush of wet leaves. ears swept forward; she was reluctant, ecstatic. a swallow tightened her throat.

now — the past days had been burning within the duck, until her skin seemed to scorch itself from the entrypoints, and in her, the beginning of sedna's call drifting lightly from her pores.

she should stay, no —

kukutux felt the sting of the wind upon her flesh as she ran to the border, slowing to a canter and then a walk as she saw the grim fall of his face. "aiolos," softly, hesitantly; why did he come in this way? and why must she stand before him now, marred? would he want her still?