Ouroboros Spine piviuttaktuk ⩸

Her sisters and anaa descended upon her like happy, furious harpies, and all the doe could do was release a laugh, happy and loud. It was a whirlwind of early flowers, of the sharp iron scent of doe blood. Old Doe twined in harmony around her spine, her ribs, singing the songs only deer know.

Happiness was a burst of air in her lungs, curving around her like a living thing. In this moment, the spirits her mother knew felt more living, those glimpses she got only growing until she was walking through visions. Three children clustered to her side, vigorous in their suckling, the salt stag at her side, old doe settling into the ground as she belonged to be. Finally to rest.

As she walked, the doe walked with her, at her side in shimmering light, a vision only she could see. Flowers and sweet pine tickled her nose, the laughter and speaking of her sisters fell in her ears, and her eyes darted through the crowd. This was a whirl of careful chaos, contained and measured, joy riding the breeze and scenting every corner of Moonglow with Vairë’s own. Then!

High on the breezes! The throaty croak of a crow! Immediately did Vairë turn, knowing this sound more than she knew anything else. This was him! This was-!

Akaagigan!

The crow, her crow, banked on the breeze, dropped to the snow in front of her. Here, Vairë cried, her bird returned to her, here on her wedding day!

She would step beside her husband, head spinning from the joy, taking it all in as much as her overwhelmed head could possibly stand. Akaagigan would find a perch in a nearby tree.

And in only a few words, it was to be.

Vairë was no more the lone doe.

Vairë Nuiruk closed her eyes, taking in her spirit name and letting it rest against her chest, taking in Rhaegal’s voice, his offer.

Vairë Nuiruk Sveijarn would open her eyes and smile, giving her husband a faint nod even as tears sat fat on her lashes.