Ouroboros Spine chugutul ⦕

It was good to see Kukutux so alive, so vibrant. Too often had Lótë seen her filled with sorrow. It was not to say that the northron was forlorn but she had had great cause to be downtrodden -- Lótë was amazed at how the Alpha had shouldered her grief so well. So many others, herself included, would have been destroyed by the loss seen within Moonspear. Warmth glowed to life in her heart like the blossoming of a firefly's light in the dusk to see her friend so happy about her pregnancy and the future. 

"I would be honored to learn; your tongue is beautiful," she complimented, cheeks warming beneath her beige fur to be accepted so readily. She wondered to herself if the phrase regarded the way a woman carried her children during pregnancy or after their arrival before deciding that that was part of the tongue's beauty -- its duality, in that it could likely mean both. Either way, the words touched some maternal corner of her heart. 

"Anaa aniqduun yaxtal kumsitaku," the dove reiterated, hoping to commit the words to memory. "In my mother tongue, one would say, 'Se hin se hinya as mel." She offered this, a fair trade, so to speak. 

The Gamma dipped her head gratefully at the offer, chuckling beneath her breath when her stomach grumbled as she rose. "I think that my children have already agreed to your invitation," she quipped lightly as she fell in alongside Kukutux, already envisioning how succulent the squirrel would taste now that her nausea had passed.