Ouroboros Spine i babble on until my voice is gone

Anaa languished in fevered spaces of sleep. Her children clustered again upon the Spine, the older and the younger.

Lightfoot was there even still. 

She looked to the distance sometimes, because Valiant wasn't here to see them all come home, to listen to her mother’s fevered whispers. Vairë spoke names, places, wept sometimes, and she sat witness. She was cared for so avidly here.

Then why did Lightfoot feel that itch under her breastbone? Like she was losing her legs, gaining wings with which to soar over the nearest peak. She dug her foot into the soft space behind her ear, hearing going in and out with every itch against the floppy surface. Eventually, she turned to bite at the fur between her toes.

Over and over again she did this, almost in repetition for thought, just outside her mother’s den. It wasn’t until a buffed murmur from Vairë made her realize she was probably thumping the ground like a rabbit, and Lightfoot guiltily moved to her feet, trundling a small ways away and flopping into a laying position.