Ouroboros Spine never love an anchor

You raise three children alone.

Old doe, spun with stars.

Your husband has left you, fawn child. He seeks the unseekable, perhaps. Or maybe he hunts for others. These things are not for you to know.

Vairë, breath shuddering with the nightmare she had woken from, freshly untangled from her children and her ulaq. Night air tangled in her fur, stars reflected on the tears in her eyes.

I know this.

I know you do. Doe, stepping now in front of her. Suddenly, she did not seem so old. She lowered her head to look her in her eye.

Your sister is Head of her village. Yet she is being courted by a man twice even your age. The question is not what you know, doespirit. It is what you will do.

She stepped away.

Vairë looked up at the stars.

I do not know.

Doe did not answer. The stars did not answer. No one answered, and she sat with that quiet for a long time.