Ouroboros Spine xxiii. in each others wounds

lótë spoke.

the brush of featherdown against one's lips; the silk of a well-cured leather beneath the paw of a child. the notes swayed together and wound into silver and sungold; kukutux was dazzled, near breathless to hear the first things that the cloudberry woman had ever spoken in the words of her people.

at least to her own ears.

"your spirits will never forget your name," moonwoman said reverently, only now focusing on what else her sister had said. "this is like a spirit-plant," she remarked of the offering. "i will put it in my worshipping-place."