Ouroboros Spine oh the mountain top, oh the visions stopped

just getting this up now in case i can't tomorrow, no rush <3

She had returned as promised. Even if she should not have roamed as much as she did, even if she had other matters to attend to.

Somehow, someway, this had become prioritized in both mind and heart.

Six days, she had been promised. He would be here upon the borders as @Kukutux had spoken. She wondered if that meant he would leave too — or if he needed the care of his kin longer. What was his condition exactly?

She paced anxiously, a limp duck between her jaws soon set upon the ground, before she called out to Kukutux, to @Kigipigak too.

Then she halted her pace, slowed to a stop with pale moon eyes eagerly scanning the horizon for either of them. Both of them!

Today was the day! He wasn't quite at one-hundred percent but Kigipigak wouldn't let that stop him from making his way out of the ulaq and beyond, with Kukutux guiding him.

The travel was slow and substantially more arduous than what Kigipigak expected; he knew he still hurt and needed time, but he also thought of himself as strong, and he could not disappoint his kin, Sakhmet, or his own masculinity. If he couldn't make this trip then that would be an insult to the girl at the end of the road, who waited for him.

Her call came and they hadn't even made it halfway down the paths. Kigipigak grew agitated as he heard it and pushed himself a little more, to the point that he was breathing with more strain than necessary and was forced to slow down or stop more frequently; this went on until the edge of the village came in to view — and there, the red-black of the girl standing in contrast to the white-barked trees at her flank.

taking liberties here, talamasca, beat me if not ok <3

six days she had said.

the moonstar of the woman's eyes, not yet visible, but the wisewoman could see the lavanic hue of sakhmet ahead. 

she had gone to kigipigak after their first meeting, told to him of all that had been said, all that had gone on. she would be firm about his rest, but now, kukutux hoped, he would heal, with something upon the horizon for which to wait.

and now in this hour she trudged with the pale man, offering herself full to any stumble or limp, ordering with a healer's privilege that he lean upon her where possible.

and when they had finally come to the boundary-line, the duck stopped, tongue lolling in a wide pant, but gaze alive as she looked first to sakhmet, then to her kinsman.

How different he looked, accompanied by Kukutux in this new place.

She could see the marring from pit to ribs. Hip to groin. She missed the ones upon his neck and tailbone. Not high enough (or at an angle) that would allow such.

Guilt welled up in her, hot and heavy. To have him make the trip even to these borders made her feel ill. She could not imagine the pain that gripped him. Before and now. Those dumb crystal tears welled up in her eyes again.

She cried so much lately. Unsure why, unable to control when it happened.

Yet she was not ashamed of it this time. Kukutux had already witnessed her weep once and surely, if Kigipigak had heard the words she had given the woman, he might know why she cried so.

The heavy weight of relief.

That shredding of guilt.

The dead duck at her paws, her promise to bring Kukutux a gift, forgotten entirely.

Oh, Kigipigak. Her shoulders sagged and, even if it was not her place or not protocol with an injured man, she sought to be near him again. Remember the way she had thought of snowy mountains when she looked at him — even if he was more like a snowy volcano now. Remind herself of the way he had shielded her in the woods.

She had never repaid him for his kindness that day.

Perhaps, she hoped, the plateau was a chance to do that.

As soon as he saw her silhouette, all thoughts of Kukutux or of his weakness vanished. He moved as quickly as his body allowed, wanting only to be near her again — shuffling more than striding, his shoulders hunched and breath hitching, until he could look at her properly.

When she said his name he felt suddenly sick to his stomach, but in a good way. Light in the chest and the head, dizzy almost, and Kigipigak assumed he had been moving too much and too quickly.

Sakhmet. His voice was a wheeze but the smile that unfurled on his face made up for that. Kigipigak did not know what else to say or to do, and that was when he remembered the healer woman — his kin, likely watching this meeting as a third wheel, or maybe in the manner of a bemused older sister.

They were standing so close to one-another until then, at which point Kigipigak sank back a step, then down to his haunches in a huff; his cheeks were rosy with a rare bashfulness. The smell of meat drew his attention to the duck next and, finding it a suitable ice-breaker for his confusing new feelings, he focused on that.

You bring a gift! Wow, look at that! A duck! Fancy seeing that here.

When he stepped back, she mimicked the same movement.

Kukutux seemed to have moved out of earshot of the two. Which eased some of the squirminess she felt in her stomach. Only for it to full bloom again when met with the sudden words.

Yes! She chirped as if she did not have to blink her vision clear. It is a gift. To Kukutux. For. . . healing you and letting me come back to see you. It was not a very big gift and it was not very filling, but she hoped it would be welcomed all the same.

Did she tell you. . . ?

Ruddy toes flexed against the earth.

permission granted to skip kukutux/say she's out of eartshot :)

Kigipigak was pleased to see that Sakhmet was doing well despite his absence. He showed more interest in the duck than might have been normal, more enthusiasm than he had shown anything during his stay within the ulaq. The smell of the fresh meat would have usually been a distraction for Kigipigak, however, he was still recovering and lacked an appetite. Good thing it wasn't a gift meant for him.

Did she tell you...?

She? Oh, right, Kukutux. Kigipigak remembered her abruptly and glanced to either side, catching a glimpse of the woman while she let them mingle. There he went, feeling warm in the face again.

Kigipigak tries to clear his throat; it doesn't do much. Yes, she... said you looked for me.

Terrible that she should be forced to do that. Kigipigak still berated himself daily over his poor choice, furthermore, the weakness of his body during and after the assault by the cat. Had he been a more attentive hunter, a stronger warrior, a proper man worthy of the name he carried — !

I heard you calling. Stealing glances at her, now. Wonder glowing from his gaze. I tried to call, but... Even now his voice was strained.

I'm sorry that I didn't hear you.

Quick to seek the soothe the situation.

How terrible to think about. How she had called for him from the tops of mountains and he had heard. Only for her to not be able to hear a returned call. Her stomach (heart, perhaps?) clenched slightly.

Her own pale gaze bounced around. To Kukutux, to Kigpigak's form or face and then more oft to the ground.

I'm thinking of turning the plateau into something meaningful, with faces showing up on it. An admission that she actually wished to do something. Not just sit around and pretend that she was content without proper protection and order for a growing group.

Another flex of toes, as if her muscles ached with her own awkwardness.

I'd like you to be there. . . when you can. If you'd like.

Her apology was met with his undeniable urge to step in close again, but he let that feeling become a subtle tension in his haunches, ebbing away. Kigipigak did not want to make her uncomfortable and the longer Sakhmet was there with him, the more he felt he was imposing, somehow. She was so small.

When she admit to her new plans, Kigipigak was glad. It did not surprise him that the plateau would become her seat of power; he believed in her dream and wanted to be a part of it.

I'd like you to be there... There it was again, the light-headedness. Kigipigak's tail gave a slight tremble as he resisted wagging it, trying to appear composed, trying to breathe without hurting himself, and trying above all to appear strong for her.

When I am mended, he promised, nodding. Kukutux is taking good care of me. They all are, here. It will not take much longer before I am home. A sheepish smile, eyes averting shyly. Kigipigak swallows the lump in his throat. Kigipigak doesn't know how long it will take for his wounds to heal, truly, but he doesn't want her to worry.

"When I am mended."

She almost wished to beg or plead with Kukutux again. Only there was no offer she could make. Sakhmet did not know how to heal, she did not even know how she might ease any pain he had. He would surely fair worse in her care on the plateau.

I fear I'm impatient. Meek and mild, a ghost of a smile for some humor. I'll learn to wait for you.

She had no choice but to. If she wished to have him back home, then she would have to wait for the worst of his wounds to heal.

What do you hope for with the plateau? What do you want to do?

She wished for everyone to have their place in it.

What would his be?

The impatience was something he shared with her; but her admitting it brought a chuckle tumbling out of him, the energy between them and the bashfulness within Kigipigak manifesting as awkward energy, displaced by a sudden sense of understanding.
I'll learn to wait for you.

If only she didn't have to.

As for the plateau? Kigipigak was surprised that Sakhmet would so hastily claim a home for herself, essentially assuming the rank of Issumatar, and then defer swiftly to another. Asking him for his opinion, of what he wanted, rather than focusing on her own desires.

The question caught him by surprise. Kigipigak knew how to serve an Issumatar who was heavy-handed, confident, even a touch malevolent, which was a far cry from the young woman that stood before him now. As she intended to wait for him to mend, perhaps it was also Kigipigak's destiny to wait for her to do the same — to recover from a past life and evolve beyond it.

A safe place. Where you are happy. His answer was honest but a bit limited; he did not know what to say, and did not have the energy to launch in to his usual diatribe of boisterousness and pride.

I will do whatever helps us achieve that. You — helps you. To be happy. That was a small slip, one he hastily danced around; there was no us, only two new friends learning how to function in the same space, for now.

If she noticed the slip, she did not speak on it.

She had also noticed the way Kukutux had looked at her when she had been so stupidly teary eyed days ago.

She did not know what was thought of of them, what might have been expected of them from any outsiders who looked in on their awkward encounters.

All the girl — woman knew was that she did not expect anything of him. Only hoped for many things.

Hoped that he might mend with a quickness, hoped that he would come back home, hoped that the plateau would be a good place for him.

Hope, hope, h o p e. . .

When you're mended, and home, we'll —

A mistake of her own that caused a bashful roll of her head to look sidelong at the territory of Moonglow.

You'll find your place.

Wherever you'd like, unspoken and held only to herself.

He deserved such, in her eyes. Even if it had not been long or even if he was on the mend. He had believed her and joined her when no one else had been there.

the duck had taken herself some steps away, from her own hearing. she did not stare at the two, but could not help a veiled glance here and there.

even from this distance, kukutux believed she saw the silent words of kigipigak's body. 

she smiled.

but soon he would weaken. she must bear him home now; he must have strength for the journey back to the healing-dens.

and so she drew shyly near again, glancing apologetically between the pair as she came to stand alongside kiggavik. 

"it is not long until the moon where birds change their feathers." she surveyed him with a careful eye, and then looked to sakhmet. "come to moonglow in the same number of days as this meeting. kigipigak," to him now, "then you will be stronger."

but she would not know until then if he would be ready to leave.

When you're mended, and home, we'll —

We—

Kigipigak's jaw set. He felt good to hear her slip, to wonder how that sentence could end; but then Kukutux was drawing towards them again. He had forgotten. As she began to speak of seasons and visits, Kigipigak drew back slightly from Sakhmet — there was that bashfulness again.

Six more days.
Kigipigak, then you will be stronger.

He nods, sparing a glance to Sakhmet, then ushered in to a turn with the help of the healer.

Kukutux returned and it seemed both of them wilted beneath the moonwoman's presence.

"come to moonglow in the same number of days as this meeting."

Six more?

She would run herself ragged with the constant range back and forth, but surely it would be worth it. Someone so loyal as Kigipigak and someone as humbly gracious as Kukutux were good wolves to have. Not to mention this would not be forever. Only until he was well enough to come home. . .

Six days. She mumbled softly. Perhaps to be certain that was what Kukutux meant and to also solidify it between them all.

She'd nudge forth the duck before they departed.

Carefully watching them before she left herself.

kukutux loathed the sensation of being the one to part them, but she was bound to her tasks as moonwoman and his kin. 

relieved to find that it seemed sakhmet held her no ill will, she assisted the winterhawk back to the ulaq, silent unless he spoke, and both gathered to their own thoughts.