Ouroboros Spine chugutul ⦕

The dove’s lips curled sweetly at the thought, head ducking as the Moon bumped shoulders with her — as if still a young girl despite being a woman grown, wed and carrying children of her own. ”Aullaksrugniaktugak,” she repeated, likely butchering the foreign word, in a soft musing of wonder — finding she rather liked the musical term. 

”I would like that,” she murmured, spring gaze meeting Kukutux’s own vivid orbs of borealis green. ”It will be good to see my children beside yours, I would very much like for them to be taught Moonglow’s ways — your ways. If it is allowed, of course.” Perhaps there were only certain things that the wisewoman had imparted upon the moonwolves and some things could not be shared outside of her bloodline.