Ouroboros Spine aaĝuliigix̂ ⋣

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The infection had begun to abate. The cloudberry would keep her leg, for which she was grateful. It was shameful enough to have been such a burden upon the village as she healed. The dove could not imagine how useless she would feel, having to learn how to navigate the world and hunt again on three limbs.

She'd begun to venture from her sickbed, testing her limb and working muscles that had gone too long unused. The greenpaw was resting now, Wilwarin curled close against her underbelly in spite of the fact that she was growing into an adolescent. Their foray into the wilderness having drawn them closer together than before, though she cherished each of her children and stepchildren's place in her heart. 

This was how Kukutux found them, Lótë's head lifting as a smile unfurled upon her dusky lips. It no longer seemed forced, though there was still an occasional glint of melancholy in her gaze -- eyes glazing over every now and again when left to her own devices, as if her mind wandered to darker memories of its own accord. 

But there was no sign of the forlornness she seemed to wear draped about her shoulders like a pelt worn for warmth as moonwoman approached with shining eyes. 

"Sister," she murmured by way of greeting, "please, come in. Make yourself at home." It was not needed, both wives of sunman had flitted between each other's hearths and slept at the other's too many times for such formalities. Even so, she welcomed the snow-pelted duck in with a dip of her head as she gently untangled herself from her dozing daughter. 

"I feel it has been too long since we last spoke," the Nuiruk quipped with a light grin as she moved to seat herself near Kukutux, offering her a brush against the cheek in fondness.