Ouroboros Spine mulberry wine

They were still just standing where they'd met up. Valiant pressed his nose again to her cheek and began walking, gesturing for her to come along. There was a peaceful little clearing in the woods where he sometimes liked to spend his evenings. Usually alone — but no longer.

"Well, they're big on the arts," he told her, his voice wry. Inviting her to be amused at this fact. "Singing, dancing, story-telling. The Morningside line is real nomadic — itchy paws, is what they call it. But the Round Valley side all stays in one place. That's the side that does weddings. Usually, it's a full carcass, and you bathe each other in the blood and go to the river to wash each other off. I'm thinkin', since we're here, and since we're moon wolves, now, we oughta just use a pelt. We can pass it down, that way."

If it lasted that long.

They came to the clearing, and Valiant stretched out with an inviting space just beside him.

"The words you say are, my heart with yours, my home with yours, my life with yours. Three times, so that it's a promise. Real quiet, just to each other," he went on, his tail whisking lazily through the grass.