Ouroboros Spine deerchild

the child seems tentative, wondering perhaps if she may be ousted from her once-called home. shikoba would do no such thing. a child had returned to the spine. perhaps, not her own, but it bore the blood of a woman she called a sister. to shikoba, that was enough to allow Moonglow to call her wayward soul back.

precious child of the morning dove, shikoba would match her step forward, her posture bearing a welcoming appearance. though when she collapses, the woman is quick to rush towards her for aid. shikoba would be there, pressing her body against Vairë to try and ease the ache that seemed to riddle her body.

brokenness was something that shikoba knew and felt. it was something perhaps everyone felt in their life. and with the years that continue to place themselves upon the shoulders of the woman, she had come to the answer that brokenness was not an indefinite title. this was not all that fate had to offer.

"you were never broken, child." the whisper of a mother comes to reach her ears, and the push of her nose against the neck in a form of providing comfort. she could see the wound, the blood, and how the skin needed to be treated. kukutux was much better with herbs and such, but shikoba could at least get her there. "moonglow welcomes you home, sweet Vairë."