Ouroboros Spine Behind every tree is a cutting machine

inside the cage of the duck's ribs, her heart felt a dissimilar and new sensation come upon it. she was willingly drawn closer; she gave no resistance to the embrace of the man who would be sivullik. and once there, once ensconced against the muscular warmth of him, the scent of earth and of blood and of lynx surpassing all her senses, kukutux found a tight thread of something calm.

was this what she had sought in raimo? he had brought her pleasure with his embrace; she had sought to use it as cedarwood pulp, mending the ragged place within herself. free as widow. free as woman. free as moon. unbound, untethered. 

and in the end, kukutux had not chosen with wisdom. what was the worth of freedom if it exacted such a price as this? the tears had not ended; the duck closed her weary eyes and allowed herself the relief of the nearness adrastus had provided her, the power of him soft and yielding. he did not move to do more; he was only still and assured beneath the small tired weight of her pale body.

come, daughter. dry your eyes. you have shown enough of yourself.

tooteega, shuffling close, eyes undimmed as she watched the sight of the icehunter and the moon. 

kuktutux at last ended their connection upon the end of a breath; she lifted her greenjade gaze to him. "i will prepare the lynx skin for you, adrastus." and in her voice, the sparkle of gratitude, even if she could not remain with him in this way as long as she wished.