Ouroboros Spine tusaaruuk ⟭

It was the first that Lótë could recall such an occassion taking place but it was with a hopeful heart that she went. She had found sisters in all of her tribeswomen thus far and only Shikoba was unfamiliar to Moonglow's greenpaw. The morning dove was almost certain that she would find a similar kinship with the newest she-wolf in their circle. Raimo was the only member of Moonglow who had ever made her feel uncomfortable but she had not seen the dark huntsman since he stalked away in the Crag.

She stopped to bump her temple against the Moon's shoulder when she arrived, turning slightly to offer a similar affectionate gesture to Sialuk afterwards, before taking a seat beside the stranger she assumed to be Shikoba -- offering the older woman a small smile as she settled on her fallowskin haunches. She was a curious little creature to behold. Tiny yet not wizened in the way some aging wolves might be, though there was something withered about her. Not in the sense of a plant slowly perishing but more like leather that had grown firm and wrinkled in the sun overtime. She reminded Lótë of an oak she had seen once; weathered and scarred by the gouges predators had left in its bark whilst sharpening their claws, the faded marks detailing a lifetime of hard won experiences.

The bird-watcher's pale peridots gleamed with soft excitement as she turned her expectant gaze towards the treeline, waiting for Keyni to arrive as her tail swished against the forest floor -- catching a few stray needles in the misted strands.