Ouroboros Spine Living like a low life

apologies for the long post, no need to match length!

mojag had returned home.

this was something that was not foreseen by the woman by any means. while shikoba had always felt hope within the reassurance from moon woman, she would lay awake at night and truly question whether his spirit survived in his body or if it wandered freely in the wilds. it terrified her to think of what may be of her son, and oftentimes the woman would have to force herself to think of something else, lest she wanted to cover her sleeping place with the tears of a failed mother.

there was something primitive in her maternal nature when it came to the protection of her son. and shikoba could not deny the feelings of shame and guilt she felt when she had to tell her pride and joy why his father was no longer present in his life. and one could imagine how much deeper in the trenches shikoba found herself to be in when mojag slipped away from the village to a wayward land of salt and sea.

shikoba was unsure to think of herself as a mother. while she tried to keep her son safe to the best of her ability, misfortune still struck her. the native had to question herself for the reasoning, and the motives behind such terrible moments in her life. perhaps it was penance for blood she spilled in her early years in the name of her family, perhaps it was nothing more than luck that would change with a coin flip. whatever it was, perhaps the streak would finally end. mojag was asleep in her hearth, returned to the warm ulaq that he was birthed in, wrapped in the same furs that kept him warm as a child. 

star hunter would be keen to ensure to not disturb him. there would always be a time to ask about his journeys and the purposes of his disappearance. perhaps this was something the boy inherited from his father, the nature to wander without a word. however, his mother would hold out hope that this was nothing more than a single occurrence.

and now, star hunter finds herself traveling to the border at a hurried trot. she would slow down, remaining only a few feet away from her husband. she was breathless for a moment, and sulfuric eyes that once burned instead remained constant and soft, like daffodils. shikoba looks towards the kills and then back to her husband. the trials were meant to put him through hell, and they were meant to test the willingness of her husband. shikoba truly was unsure if he would ever come back to the spine with such a task, and in quieter moments wondered if it was too much to ask.

yet, they were both here.

"you have done all that was asked," she would whisper to him quietly, "and you have proven yourself worthy of moonglow." her voice has let go of its original frigidness, now it remains soft to envelop inutsuk. "now you must promise me one last thing,"

she would close the gap, a gentle nuzzle of her snout against the tufts of hair against his cheek, "promise me you will not leave me again."