Shadewood maquktuq ⛈

if/when you have time! <3

the misery that clung to the shadewood had filtered into the girl's den as well. she did not know why cry had brought her to such a private conversation; watching the two of them move away from each other had sundered kukutux. had she broken things irreparably by her very presence?

waking that morning, the duck was seized with the grave intention of making things right. if she could not stay in cry's land, that was one thing. but kukutux did not think she could depart with things as they were. he was a man and could not understand the ways of women — therefore, she would seek out his wife and beg for forgiveness on cry's behalf.

two hours of hunting garnered the young wolf a lamed swan, its plumage still brilliant against the snow. crimson droplets fell to the drifts as kukutux traveled, searching for @Gwen in the shadows of the quiet forest.

<3

The towering wall had been risen from the ashes once more, standing tall against the fringes of the empress' mind - it would block all light from seeping through the cracks, defend her heart from the tremors of this disruption. Gwen had been so wrapped up in the venomous conversation between herself and Raziel that she'd been entirely unaware of the dove's presence; an oddity for the tracker.

Emotions had drowned her senses.

The rusty tang of blood sucked her from her thoughts, cerulean eyes peeking from behind the shade of a tree as Kukutux emerged into her vision, white bird in tow. An arrow of pain shot through her veins, but she could not fault the girl for the rift that had been caused between the monochrome pair - it was her traditions, something that she must have been taught from a young age. Gwen did not blame her for that. But still... to see her, draped in the palest cream with eyes of light emerald... the snow queen wondered if Cry favoured her more than his wife.

But still she chuffed a solemn greeting, fighting the urge to drift away into the shadows.

<3

gwen called to her, the igadux studded with somber gems of blue. beautiful, curvaceous. she held kukutux in thrall for a long moment, until at last the narrow-boned girl remembered herself and dipped low her head before the one cry called queen.

"i did not —" the duck began, dropping the swan, but fear cut off her words. a swallow, one almost painful in its formation. "you are the one in his soul. i would not have asked if i had known how deeply your spirits were tied." it was the truth: cry had told her of his love, but kukutux had not understood until it was too late. there remained hope within her heart that she could mend things, however, for gwen did not seem unkind.

"i asked because ... it is all i have left of my people. my mate," came her quiet admission, voice cracking with emotion she fought to rein. why had she not died? why had she been spared, only to watch her grandfather suffer and pass, and find herself alone in a strange land? "to carry on their traditions, to raise my children their way. that is why i asked," kukutux finished, finding it unfair that saltwater had settled in the corners of her eyes.

"my soul hurts. that does not mean yours must also," the grieving young one stated, more firmly. "i will stay until you have your pack. then, if you cannot stand to see me here, i will leave, and go to the sea." biting her lip, kukutux drew a quick breath and nudged the pale body of the limp waterfowl toward gwen, averting her eyes. "this is for you. the down will make soft bedding for your children."

oh — she wanted to run! but still she stood, awaiting gwen's ire, her words, her demand that kukutux leave the keep now. whatever the queen wished, yes, the girl would do, for this could surely not be her home now.

i love her wow

The pearlescent queen listened in utmost silence, awaiting the words of Kukutux with a weight of lead in her stomach - but the angst began to falter as more details drifted off the tongue of the other, and then she was left simply with a stone in her belly. A tugging at her thoughts. "I... do not hate you. And I would never will you away from the Keep," she assured, fighting the urge to keep her voice steady. Her statements rang true; she wouldn't, couldn't, cast the dove out from the family. It did not sit right upon her shoulders, no matter what would become of their presently tense relationship.

She just- couldn't let her take him. She'd cut off her own life before she lost him, as the ebonian was all the fallen empress had left.

"You... You didn't know. I don't blame you for that, and I respect your traditions... If a husband is what you want, I will do my best to help you find one, if it's what you really, truly want." Her tongue drew out to wet her lips. "But remember you are worth more than that - your purpose is not only to bear children. You are my pack-sister now, la familia, and I care about your well-being." But she simply failed to accept the possibility of allowing her to become a second wife to Raziel, both in selfish fear of losing him, watching him slip away and abandoning her to face the world's woes, and of sympathy for the girl. Innocence was whispered in her very nature, and the Eruna couldn't despise her for the way she was raised.

butpleasepleasestayawayfromhimineedhim-

The gift was unexpected, and it caused a flicker of warmth to ignite within her heart - a tender spot, causing her eyes to glimmer with appreciation. "Thank you, Kukutux."

i love gwen <3 & this whole thread

she did not immediately register gwen's words, only waited for the harsh tonality that never came. instead, it seemed that the snow queen softened, thanked her, wished to help. the girl was left without fear, but only emptiness stole into its wake, bleeding the wary light from her eyes into a dulled sheen.

"cry too said that i did not only have to be wife," kukutux whispered. how could she explain what it meant to her, in this world where two became one for vastly different reasons. the girl lifted her eyes to to the snow that had begun to fall in earnest. it seemed a knife tore at her heart, for echoes of pain began to reverberate more strongly.

"i was wife before," the duck revealed, returning her spring-mint gaze to the searching azure of gwen's own. "among my people, we are women earlier. and we are not given as wives; we choose. he was kind to me, always, and he brought my father good things and my mother respect.

"i was happy to be his wife. he looked only at me. his eyes were gentle," kukutux whispered, her voice light with the grief that battered like moon-stoked waves at the doors of her heart. "my husband and i loved one another as you and cry do," she added, refusing to weep. not now, not now. 

"he is gone. if i could be second wife, i would not be idle, and it would keep me from the pain of losing another husband." it was perhaps illogical, but kukutux never wished to know the agony of loving a man only to lose him again. it was driftwood upon the sea, that part of her spirit, the girl had decided. gwen's offer would not go unnoticed; the duck dipped her head in gratitude for the snowy one's acceptance and regard of her. "at the end of this moon, my period of mourning will be over. perhaps then i will be ready." the anguish would remain, but a moon was the proper length of time to mourn. kukutux was young; she could not spend her next years in sorrow.

<333

The air seemed thick with unspoken hurt, pouring from the wounds of both women - Gwen did not want to feel possessive over her mate, her husband, but she was simply afraid. Love was fragile, tender; the most wonderous experience, the most dreadful curse, as thin as paper, and so easily torn. She'd loved and lost before, and though on the outside it had hardened her shell, within, the ivoria was tenuous, terrified and uncertain.

She listened to the duck's story in silence, inwardly wincing at the weight of loss. To interrupt such a story could have caused further tearing of bonds, and she had no wish to be on bad terms with Kukutux. Her heart, in spirit, ran with the girl's, a quiet reaching out of understanding, of apologies for her heartbreak.

Only when words slowed to a halt did the Eruna finally speak again, leaning forward to brush her nose warmly against the other's pale shoulder, should it be permitted. "I am sorry you lost him," she uttered carefully, "I've lost a husband before, too." Two of them, in fact, and it killed her every day. "I know how it burns. This is why I... why i'm so attached to Cry. I don't want to lose him, like I lost the others."

"You are strong. I believe in you." She did - with a knowledge of the earth-shattering pain deaths and disappearances caused, she knew one had to maintain serious strength not in their physique, but in their hearts. Their wills.

dizzily, kukutux watched as gwen drew closer, touched her softly. for a moment she felt as though she might drown in the eternal blue of the queen's knowing gaze. perhaps it was the idea of family that calmed her, set her lips to trembling with a new emotion; perhaps it was gwen's revelation that she too had lost a husband.

if there was any creature who understood the scar left upon kukutux' soul, it was this woman. she could never be wife to cry in good spirits, not with the rift of love having taken so much from herself and from gwen already. fear, yes, but fear could be dealt with, and harshly. the keep had other men, and if kukutux must travel away from the lands to find another with which her soul might blend, could she not make it so?

"sh'udla'a," came her soft whisper, unfurling from a throat made thick with unshed tears. kukutux lifted the verdancy of her eyes to those of gwen, and for the first time, felt a thawing in the ice that had come to encircle her heart. "it is good to have a sister again."

The empress sensed, within the tenebrosity of plaguing sorrow, a softening had taken hold of her soul - it felt soothing, tender, and before long her own eyes began to sting with unshed tears. Within the past few suns, she'd been terribly emotional; something that was so rare for the frosted queen - she had learned to steel her expressions, heavy her heart, and lock away any hints of upset. The past few days, terrible as they may have been, had relieved her of such built up stress. It had been released, and now, she felt stronger.

As though, just maybe, she could do this.

Gwen's fathomless gaze met the lightness of Kukutux's, and a gracious smile began to tip her lips, a growing warmth - "I agree." This was a pack-sister, one linked not by blood but by her very spirit, the bond that would emerge from their shared hardships. She prayed the bond would last, would strengthen and evolve; she missed having family, and the Keep's claim was a masterful attempt at creating a sanctuary for others like herself and Raziel. There was nowhere that the duck could belong more.

the awareness that she could never belong to cry now washed over kukutux like a wave. but its impact did not hurt, its strike muted by the fact she had found something in gwen she had thought was lost. the duck knew she would be wife again, and even if she must put aside her depth of feeling for the shaman, surely it would be worthwhile in the end.

"i had a sister once," kukutux began shyly. "our mother was training us to become healers." all at once, the telling became too great for her heart; she turned away, swallowing hard. "will you tell me of how yourself, and cry, decided upon this place?" shadewood was truly beautiful, and kukutux was thankful that gwen did not expect her to leave it. for some time they spoke, parting ways on a warm note that the girl carried with her for some time.