Ouroboros Spine spirits

going out on a limb with this plot but to avoid confusion, Lótë is offering to guard Makan and help nurse him back to health.

Moonglow's heart had hardened. 

Their way was hospitality, kindness. But Raimo had come. The red spirit. The Saint wolves. The sisters who desecrated their land. Lótë's own husband. It was too much. Of course strangers on their borders would cause them to draw ranks by now. 

Lótë was amongst that number, fierce and cold in the face of the stumbling stranger -- as cold as the snow that whipped against their frames as if the spirits sensed their ire. 

And yet, the dove did not wish for her heart to close itself off from the world. Warmth had long been her way, it was one of the things that had drawn her to the village when it was not yet established. She forced her viridescent gaze to look beyond his proximity to their boundaries. 

The dark skeleton was one of death. He was haggard, his bones protruding in gaunt angles. The sapphire of his gaze was cloaked, hazy and dull with the kind of weariness that put many on their backs. Lótë had known such pain, had danced with death. It did not make her soften outwardly, still cautious, but when Shikoba questioned -- the painter drew close to murmur in soft tones for the other villagers alone. 

"I do not think he means us harm. He does not smell ill but he is weak, close to death from some misfortune." Her wan features were tight, serious. It made her nervous to speak up, or make suggestions. Not to mention they did have expecting mothers and many children in the pack to think of. 

"I have been hunting again, I could keep watch over him and feed him. Perhaps he would stay and help when the new pups are born. We will need all the meat we can store." She glanced between the others to gauge their reactions. "My children may be frequenting your hearth more often and I may need herbs for his wounds, however." 

When Kukutux addressed the man, Lótë drew back -- turning back to the sickly silhouette of onyx. Her ears pricked curiously, also eager to see what the man's reply would be. If he could reply. 

If the wolves of Moonglow did not wish to expend resources on the wanderer or admit a stranger access to the Spine, the doe would stand with them. That would be that. In spite of that, she could not help but pity him.