Ouroboros Spine ommatik ∻

The artisan considered a moment, thoughts gone still with pondering -- giving the words the full exploration she felt they merited. She had fled Elennanórë as little more than a girl, in that limbo between child and woman before she could count even one change of seasons. Fear had driven her, desperation had kept her alive. Survival had been paramount above all else. Now that she could afford to slow her relentless gait across the land, now that she could settle and take a breath, who and what was she meant to become?  Lótë was not the name she had been born with, this life was not the one she might've lived otherwise. It was liberating to think of the endless possibilities -- though terrifying too.

"You are Moon. Sialuk is the Star. Raimo, the Spear," she lilted softly, meanderingly. "I am only Lótë." Follower, subordinate, woman of their tribe. "I wish for no large part. I was never built for power or to lead -- in anything. I would be as the Land to Moonglow, offering the ability to grow and flourish. Or as the Trees, steadfast sentinels watching the herds as they roam and the time as it passes." She would be the background, a backbone on which Moonglow and the entirety of the Spine could rely on. Kukutux would find her heart overgrown with moss and steeped in creekwater, timeless and simple in its desires. She wanted nothing more than to become a part of the people that had sprung up around her, to settle and find family.