Ouroboros Spine oh no no no no no

he'd returned, briefly, to the fields. when there was no hide nor hair of the girl there, he'd continued onward. 

damn—how had they not sensed her slipping away?!

aditya was racked with worry as he ascended the slope, teeth aching from constant grinding and gnashing. he'd reunited with his sort-of mate, only to find that their daughter had vanished.

i'll find her, said the valiant, decrepit aditya.

and so find her he would.

his steps were coming shorter with each increase in altitude, breath hitching in his chest. he wondered. . .how far could she have gone? how much was he absolutely fucked?

she chose to leave, a niggling voice in his conscience sang,

but she's a child, aditya countered, growling, and let loose a howl at the first scent of borders, hoping beyond hope that they would have answers for him here.

Callyope looked out for Mo every day.

The artist of a girl had turned her face towards the way of a hunter, a guardian. She wondered when his spirit would return.

But an old spirit came to them today.

Older than anaa, taataa. Older than any she had seen before.

Somehow this enchanted her.

Why has your spirit come to Moonglow?

She looked upon him with warm eyes.

moonglow. that rang a bell, but he stared at her intently, smiling nonetheless.

i'm looking for my daughter, he explained, tail wagging behind him.

she was young. not much older than his daughter, maybe a moon or so. his golden eyes observed her pale form, and the mountains around her.

she's black and gray, with some brown, aditya continued. have you seen her? can you get your parents, to ask. . .?

adi let his tongue loll slightly in friendship, posture relaxed.

Callyope had seen no such girl. Not here, not on her ventures for Mo.

She shook her head softly, but followed promptly — I ask. Before she gave a call to mother moonwoman (@Kukutux) and father sunman (@Aiolos).

You rest here with me and we wait?

She returned his friendly body language and sat down across from him.

It was then she noticed the device around his neck and she peered with open curiosity.

a man. an elder.

he wore a gentle parka and searching eyes.

an odd thing was around his neck.

kukutux came quietly to answer callyope's call. "what is needed, sikuaq?" she spoke to her daughter but her eyes were upon the man. "this is village moonglow. i am moonwoman."

his paternal attitude flourished further as the girl bade him wait, calling for her parents and/or the leaders of this place. he sat at her request, curling his tail around his haunches and anticipating whoever would answer the summons.

aditya caught her eyes upon his throat and chuckled, a little awkwardly.

i don't know, either, he said. one night it wasn't there, and the next morning—

but a white-pelted woman broke off his story, and he dipped his head, standing with relaxed, respectful posture before her. again, moonglow. this time, it rattled something old and dusty in his mind, but he put it aside while focusing on the matter at hand.

my daughter is missing, adi explained again. a little younger than her, i think, he added, gesturing toward the girl with his muzzle. sikuaq, she'd been addressed. black and gray, with some brown. friendly. brave. silktail, we call her. have you seen her—or heard news of her nearby?

kukutux listened.

but she shook her head sadly. "i have not seen her. but moonglow will open its eyes for this girl, silktail."

it was a gentle name. she looked at the thing around his neck. "if you are hungry, we will give you meat."

his hope slipped away. thank you, aditya replied, unable to keep the dejection from his voice. still, he forced a smile, and it grew more genuine at her mention of food.

though he felt bad. did they have meat to spare, with young mouths to feed? his gaze flickered to the girl before returning to kukutux.

i will take meat if you allow me to hunt for you in return, he countered. finally, the old encounter came to him. i met a young woman of this place once—i think her name was. . .sialuk? she seemed very wise, adi added, eyes warming.

as did this woman; another apple tumbling not far from its tree.

"sialuk." her smile grew. kukutux invited the man to walk with her.

"she is my oldest daughter. she has gone on a spirit journey given to her by the place of her birth."

how she missed sialuk! how she longed for kausiut!

"will you trade stories of wisdom instead?" moonwoman asked, gaze dancing.

kukutux didn't need to tell him how much she missed her daughter. he saw it clear and plain in her eyes, and his eyes warmed, hoping he could connect the hearts of two aching parents.

i hope her journey is without trouble, aditya replied. and yes. . .i can certainly tell my stories, for whatever they're worth.

he laughed, slightly, at that, eyes creasing. 

they always assumed that old age made you wise. but he didn't feel any bit of it. his bones might ache, his breath coming shorter than before, but he'd never felt older than his youth and inexperience—

but he'd try. at least.

fade? <3