Ouroboros Spine uluktuk ⧝

Stories were hard.

Often long and too many words he did not understand. He stayed on the outskirts of the gathering, content to glimpse around for clues as to how to respond.

The word love seemed repeated plenty. Owl and Goose, wolves he did not know, even as she spoke of them in great detail. Most seemed touched by the story. Faces alight with kindness and warmth. This was a look he could not mimic.

Too confused, too lost. Perplexed by the emotional speech he had been called for.

Only briefly did he look to @Lótë as if she might have the answers like so many times before.

Instead, he only felt a simmering of something he had still not figured out. There was a deep desire to slink away back to the glade, except he had come to learn that such a thing might be wrong.

So he only looked away, eyes upon the darkened sky.