Ouroboros Spine mamianaktuk ◸

in her years, shikoba finds herself slower to anger.

but that does not mean anger does not still burn within sharp yellow eyes. there is a bristle in her coat, something she tries to sooth as her cheek brushes against her sister's softly. "ariadne is young, impressionable. he is older, and has poisoned a hearth of sons and his wife." her whispers are quiet, sharp. she could not believe the actions of the winterhawk, for he was once so trusted within the village. and yet now, he is here, flaunting the places where he may lay, as if to spite moonwoman! his son remained here, a man now, and yet the winterhawk assumes he has been the one to mold him!

"i know you mean well, sister, to try and let your daughter find her place and husband as the head of moonsong. but she lays within a bed of snakes," a fair warning in her tone, a tender kiss on kukutux's brow, "a man who whispers sweet nothings, and then leaves the next day if tartok demands." she thinks for a moment, thinking of ways to help. "how can we show her? does she know of his children, practically her age, estranged?"