Ouroboros Spine vii. and scrub between the cracks.

lótë winced. a dark tendril of guilt and shame rolled through her. it had been unwise to use his name. but she had no other title for kukutux's son. 

they both fell silent in the face of moonwoman's anger.

the dove froze, watching in dulled horror -- wolves appearing, howls flying into the air. her worst fear brought to life as she struggled to process all that had just happened. 

for just a moment, she hesitated. she almost heeded her sister's words. a part of her longed to disappear into the village and whatever happened at the border be damned. 

"i cannot leave him," she murmured, her eyes begging for first wife's forgiveness. 

she'd traveled with saviguk. hunted and shared meals with him. she'd seen him bleed. they'd tended each other's wounds. there was too much in him that was good and kind. too much of kukutux to be an evil spirit. 

the herd-stalker doubted whether any of them had heard, as things seemed to have erupted around her. 

"wait," she felt the air burst from her lungs, as she turned towards the ostrega -- who looked ready to bolt. without waiting to see if he'd listen, her spring gaze flew back to meet the matchmaker's. 

"when i came to ask you about what had happened in moonspear, three springs ago, the yellow spirit-plant," the words fell from her lips, fast, desperate as her gaze bored into the pale leader's. pleading. "it was creeping jenny. yellow parsley. jeninnimë. parslëimme. malin."

"i am me." her words quivered and she swallowed the shake in her voice. "what can be done to prove he is he?"