Ouroboros Spine without a compass

when kukutux stares, racharra stiffens into her most presentable visage. if this were an assessment of her beauty or her heart, racharra isn't sure whether she'd passed.

that would be decided for by whatever my spouse feels is best. i'm partial to either, the land here is beautiful.

but it would never be home. ocean sand and dirt are soft but neither would ever be as rich nor as familiar to her feet as the red sands.

it's to her relief when kukutux turns to the gifts, her own gaze following. had she passed? would it be rude to ask so?