Ouroboros Spine [m] goldstone

<3

to his credit, kivaluk tries to muster a smile for chickadee but it falters. the poison in his heart, though not aimed at her at all, make it hard for his joy at seeing her to break through the icy fortress he's summoned. he does, though, offer her an affectionate nip to her cheek.

he draws in a deep breath, slow, as if it was hard and lets it out. it makes him feel a little better, but this respite of the heaviness in his shoulders and heart returning in full force.

she does not ask. she does not have to.

my — he struggles with the word 'father' for kigipigak ( for kivaluk refuses to call him anything else, even in his mind ) has not been such for a very long time. the man that sired me, he corrects himself. in all the ways that mattered, the mantle of 'father' to kivaluk belonged to the sunking. he has chosen my sister ariadne as his new wife.

repeating the words feel like a palpable sickness in his throat: for more than one reason. sure, there was no actual biological relation between kivaluk and ariadne but still, there is a wrongness it brings about within him that he cannot shake. for the age difference. for the fact that he believed ariadne was simply kigipigak's new toy.

until he grew bored, until tartok summoned him, until his mood shifted. whatever excuse he bothered to cobble together for her and her children.

perhaps the ancestors will scorn me for wishing ill upon the marriage, his words are choked; catching in his throat. a part of him feels terrible but another part of him desires it. it was a horrible, awful war and he is afraid that chickadee might see something in him now that she does not like; and if it is so, may she decide it now instead of later. they should. kivaluk whispers.

and yet, he draws in another breath; a battered warweary soldier returned home. he wishes only for the embrace of his to-be wife but holds himself back: until he has told her his truth, until he knows she will still welcome him to her. this does not change my mind. it is wrong —

gaze hardens; ears flutter back against his skull. tail lashes against his haunches.

the worst is i cannot decide what i hate more: that i will be right and that he will leave her and her children, or that i will be wrong and that he finds her and the children she bores him worthy of staying for when my mama and i were not. finally, he gives voice to his true fears, wearily searching chickadee's expression for her reaction.