Moonsong Glacier torn butterfly wings

the taggerung.
not a name, a title, and yet it fit. the syllables of it were melodic. it felt a word from a language the bearwolf had not heard before.
his own, asked after in that same entertaining way.
"what do you think?" merrick invited, cheating his way to another opening. his single eye danced with the open daring of it, the understanding between them.