Ouroboros Spine liv. i'm trying to find all the love that you gave me

so sorry for the wait!

Lótë grinned, releasing a bright burst of wind chime laughter as a few of the pups began to tussle over the squirrel Shikoba had brought. Her spring gaze flickered to meet the first hunter's sulfurous one, somewhat abashedly. 'Kids.' 

She moved to sit alongside her village sister, content to watch the gaggle of pups wrestle over the squirrel and smear themselves in paint. The soft words of the Pheasant Tail caught her attention, however. Fallow ears pricked forward to catch the reminiscent wisp of the warrior's voice, face softening as she turned to Shikoba. 

"My mother was a painter too. Both my parents," she shared in turn, shifting closer so her shoulder brushed against the agouti's in comfort. "Perhaps it is something we could keep alive, here in the village. I think our ancestors might like that, should we chose to honor them that way."

"Today is the first time they've seen paint. They're simply experimenting with it," she grinned, bemusement and pride evident on her face as she gestured to the blurred prints and smears of paint decorating her den. She did not allow herself to think on why she had not painted in so long, there was no place for sadness in the warmth found here.