Ouroboros Spine [m] i’m in the trees, i’m in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground

He knew the scent at once. When he woke that day, he laid for a long time with his eyes shut and his body lax and boneless, breathing deep breaths of a scent that would always remind him of the safety and belonging he'd felt in White Spine, and of the joy and togetherness of the fertility festivals of Round Valley. It was intertwined today with the sweeter scent of Vairë, who he did not expect to call for him.

It was too soon. And in a way, they were already too late. Next year, maybe, if he was her choice at all. He could be patient, but he mourned the growing sense of opportunity and anticipation that'd filled him since he'd first breathed in Ariadne's heat.

He was happy here. He had to keep that in mind. He was happy here, and he didn't need anything more to stay happy. He had too much already to be grateful for.

But you could be happier, a voice whispered. You could be happier, and so could she.

He thought about the day they'd stood together talking about the names of distant, dreamed-of children. Of a family they both wanted, even if it was not yet clear whether Vairë wanted it with him. Something in him had still moved in that conversation. A shiver of possiblity that'd turned into an avalanche of hope and desire.

When he finally stood, it was with his limbs already tensed to run. He found her trail and followed it outward, not dwelling on what this direction might mean. He only slowed when her trail threaded through the forest's edge, but he'd caught his breath by the time he reached her. He still breathed deep, savoring the burn her scent evoked in him.

He sat beside her, leaving a yard or so between them. Looked out at the valley, as if searching for whatever held her attention.

"Are you going out?" he asked her, his Rose gold gaze traveling back to her face. His uncertainty showed, but his tone was free of judgement.