Ouroboros Spine vii. for each others' warmth

Lótë gathered some of the cadmium paste up on one wine-stained paw, a smile gracing her stillwater features as she shifted and turned to face the stone wall halfwise -- allowing her to half keep Adrastus' glacial bulk in her eyesight as she worked. "It sounds lovely," she complimented. "I would be honored to help decorate your home -- I also have some furs I've been working on which you might take your pick from," the mouse uttered with the barest dip of her head, allowing her spruce-green gaze to wander back to him for a moment. "Many are from small creatures but compiled they might make good bedding for cubs ," the yearling suggested, turning back to the orange streaks she was swiping across the stone with hopes of mimicking a sunset's hues. It did not occur to her that the hunter of hoarfrost might not sire cubs this year -- he had come to replace the dark woodsman as Kukutux's lead hunter, or so Lótë had presumed. Perhaps painting the man's dwelling would endear his future woman to the hearth he hoped to make. 

The artisan admired the fiery colors, satisfied that they somewhat resembled the strokes of color across a twilight sky. She would need to search for something to lighten the ochre color at her feet, maybe some chalk if she could find a deposit amongst the creek gravel near the lake. Then the lighter paint might offer some depth and realism to the imagery she was currently working on. For the time being, the girl turned back to the lynx-bane with a heavy consideration in her unsettled eyes of summer.

Should she tell him? What would her warning even be?

"I do not pretend to understand the ways of men," the last word has a bite of sharp teeth, thoughts of Lóminórë pulling to the forefront of her mind. The herdstalker winces, ears sweeping back against her skull as she shivers faintly -- a muscle memory, useless in its attempt to shake away the prickling burn of teeth and claws against her skin. "But I know of the anger that fixes itself between you and Raimo," and here her eyes would fall timidly, auds nearly invisible as they pin completely. The cloudberry swipes an anxious tongue over her chops before continuing, "He has come here...and asked that I be his second." 

"I refused. It does not seem right that I be second hunter to him -- I am neither man nor hunter. It would anger the spirits of my home," she admitted uneasily, though it had more to do with the small omittance she still cradled close to her chest. She released it on rapid wings, fast enough to match the flapping pace of her heart: "He unnerves me." In the few times they had met, he had introduced himself by lunging towards her with aggression and treated her as a pawn. Now, Kukutux's touch had emboldened him enough to appear near the doe's sleeping place in order to conspire against the gentle giant of ice before her. 

The painter's peridot gems lifted to the fallow of Adrastus', wordless and wary with the things she could not communicate. Watch out for the man in black.