Shadow Mountain taqqiq ☾

@Thorn bc couldn't wait to post w her MY B

the falling rocks had come quickly. they had crushed everything within their path.

kukutux had not stopped dreaming.

the snow beneath her paws was different than what had fallen upon the island. it was somehow less dense, and yet it dragged at her tired limbs all the same. across her shoulders hung a rabbit skin containing the last of the dried seal meat she had brought with her after burying grandfather in the death ulaq and leaving the shore.

some spirit whispered: you should have joined them, and kukutux paused in her trek to stare unseeingly into the unfamilar distance. perhaps she should have. at least then she would be with her mate. at least then she would be with her mother. the thought caused her eyes to water, and she scolded herself for being a child, crying for the woman who had borne her.

do not think their names. do not say their names, kukutux told herself grimly. doing so might only curse them to wander, and she as well.

in silence she walked, alone save for the low keening of the wind.

thorn's pursuit of the fairer sex took him further and further from diaspora's range. at this point, the beast had become reasonably familiar with most of the terrain in the sunspire, and traversed it with a practiced ease.

the snow here was thicker than at the lake -- the whipping wind had driven sheets of it into heavy drifts, and thorn was forced to adjust his course on more than one occasion. as he did so, he caught the scent of a wolf bourne by the wind. he froze, for it was fresh and close -- and as he glanced around, he caught the pale silhouette of a wolf with something burdening her shoulders.

he adjusted his path to intersect with hers, though his gait was careful and slow.

wolf she had scented, wolf she had seen, but kukutux had kept her distance and spoken to no inhabitant of this strange new land. it was not the taiga, though she sensed in the distance there would be something similar, only an endless expanse of snowy mountains.

to the woman came a new fragrance, one bristling with masculinity. she pulled herself from the day-wanderings that spirits led one into; her grass-green eyes came to rest on the tall figure of a man, one rapidly approaching. for a long moment, kukutux merely shook where she had stopped, wondering what it was he would want of her.

had her mother taught her nothing? the dove swallowed, fixed her gaze upon the earth, and waited for him to enter hearing distance. and then, in a small voice she did not recognize, kukutux spoke in the manner of her people, addressing the stranger politely though she did not look at him.

"this woman would ask, what is the name of this land? this woman is lost." 

as the razorbacked yearling drifted into audible periphery, the ivory she-wolf spoke. her accent and manner of speaking was entirely unfamiliar to thorn, and he flicked an ear as he deciphered her unusual manner of address.

sniffing into the cold air, the brute answered: "sunspire mountains. where did you hail from?" she did not look exotic to thorn -- but she did not look like a commoner either.

kukutux kept her face downcast, but listened carefully to how he spoke. there was no formality to his words, but he answered her question. however, the man asked her one in return. it was not done among her kind. there, he would have addressed her father or grandfather.

you have no father or grandfather now, the spirit whispered, and kukutux felt the pain of that truth cut through her like a tusk. you do not have a people.

realizing she had not yet answered the stranger, the woman pulled the skin from her shoulders and lay it open the ground. there, kukutux nosed it open, revealing the four long strips of dark, dried meat. 

”this woman has no people, and comes from a place of death. this woman would thank this man for helping her.” gesturing to the seal flesh, kukutux stepped back. 

sunspire mountains. she fixed the name in her mind.

the blackened cur watched as the slender she-wolf freed her shoulders of their burden, placing the peculiar load upon the ground. as she nosed it, he saw the dried remnants of flesh -- his ears cupped ahead in curiosity, for he had not seen meat preserved in such a way.

he did not move for the offering, though he dipped his muzzle in appreciation. "that is not very descriptive." he replied, his brow furrowed -- if she had come from a place of death, shouldn't he know of it to warn stigmata and mahler? his brow continued its crease of concern. perhaps a bit belatedly, he realized the woman likely had bigger problems in her life than telling him where she had come from. after all, had she not mentioned death and having no people?  "are you alright?"

just by glance alone, she physically seemed hale enough -- but thorn was in truth inquiring as to her mental state -- which he could not fathom of his own accord.

kukutux had never spoken with a stranger for this long, let alone a man. "there were falling rocks. they took this woman's people." her eyes had shut tight at the telling; she still did not lift her eyes. instead, the girl busied herself by focusing on the fact that he had taken none of the seal meat.

belly clawing at itself, kukutux carefully covered the precious slices of food with the edge of the rabbit skin. he asked after her well-being, this man, but she did not know how to answer. how could she tell him that she was a woman without a soul — kiin? that in her wanderings she had oft wished to be dead so that she could join the ones she loved at the dancing lights?

siniktuq, the spirit whispered, and the girl swallowed her sorrow. "yes," came her soft voice. there was nothing more to say. perhaps the stranger would leave her now. kukutux did not know if that was easier or more difficult in the span of time, but it mattered not.

a tremulous emotion overcame the woman and thorn was not so much of a brute to miss it. his ears splayed back in uncertainty, for he could not deny her the sorrow she had earned.

she revealed her people had been ground out of existence by the impassive shifting of rocks -- thorn winced, understanding well the dangers of a stony avalanche. he himself had grown up on the fringes of a mountain's foot, and many times in the night had woken to the grumbling of the mountain above.

he dipped his head in curt sympathy, watching as she gathered the meat once more. he would not take it -- for it was of his opinion she would need it far more than him.

"do you need somewhere to stay?" he ventured, wondering if she was wandering where the wind took her, or if she had an end destination in mind. diaspora would like as not eagerly take her in -- particularly so close to breeding season -- and thorn believed she could be a capable fit if she was willing to try. despite her ailed appearance, he believed there lurked a raw power under those lanky bones -- one he was just only barely perceptive of, like glancing at a frozen over puddle and realizing its depths went far below what the eye could see.

he was kind, she decided, this man who had come to speak with her. and yet her throat squeezed; and yet she could only find the energy to shake her head. she needed no one. perhaps it was still the shock of losing her people that drove kukutux, or the stubborn nature of a girl. either way, she could not bring herself to look at him.

did he pity her? kukutux did not want to know. "i will be all right," came her whisper; she had dropped the trading formality like a soaked fur. it meant nothing here. and nor did her existence. "thank you," the girl added, her glance a momentary flicker of green. she hoped he would dismiss her soon; she wanted to be alone to mourn those who had died before their time.

the sylph shook her head in decline, and thorn, recognizing the thin well of mental stamina was unraveling, gave a dip of his own head. a refrained gesture, but one no less genuine. 

he was intruding — he could tell by the high exhaustion that lingered in her gaze, that roiled out from her ragged composure. should that change, look for the wolves of diaspora. 

wishing to tax her patience no further, the beast prepared his leave — though he preferrred to be dismissed by the sylph first.

<3

diaspora. kukutux mentally repeated the word and nodded. he seemed ready to depart, but had not yet taken his leave; quickly, the girl searched for the translation to the line of departure: "may you walk in the sun." half-mumbled, she cast a glance toward the curious man a last time before setting off through the snow again, anguish weighing upon her soul.