Ouroboros Spine [m] ⊡ ukaksitaak ⊡

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: mentions of domestic violence + atoning for that

this is a trial for cen of moontide to answer for his crimes. rounds are for kukutux, cen, @Aiolos, @Vairë, and @Valiant. everyone else is welcome to come be an audience for the trial. participation is optional! there is no posting order for leadership or for anyone who wants to join! i can leave each round open for a week if that works, but since its optional and audience based, feel free to throw a post in anytime! @Ariadne @Peregrine @Faele @Kyrell @Kannoyak @Nantahala @Nutuyikruk @Tautukpik @Lómion @Atausiq (open also to raiyuk (since he is recovering in MG and kigipigak who travels back and forth <3)

"bring him to the grandfather stone."

kukutux, who had not allowed herself to feel the anger at the caribou man's crimes, felt it keenly now, the injustice toward his wife red leaf and their son ghelan.

she had marked a man for life here, torn out the tongue of a tupilak.

and yet this was not relished. a harsh punishment was necessary, and this was worse than any yet over which she had presided as judge.

cen would be seized and dragged down from the altar, paraded through the village; she saw him kicking and shouting, and finished drawing a line of elkblood down the muzzle of vairë, adding her own. they would walk down together.

beneath the great sight of the grandfather stone, a pair of great pines towered over the others. a smooth rock was wide there for these four to sit, for cen to be forced down into the soft grass before them.

she did not care how roughly the caribou man was handled in this.

"cen is of moontide village," she said loudly to those gathered. "his leaders @Rodyn and @Heph asked that we judge him in moonglow."

cen's glare was a stormcloud in a silent face.

"he is accused of beating his wife many times before they arrived in moontide, and hurting her even after this. she fears for her life. they have a very young son who certainly has seen these things fill his eyes."

her voice was hard. "he does not deny it. but i will ask him again: are these things true, what has been said?"

he had been fed. rested. hobbled. guarded. no abuse had come to cen during his time here, but the stone-faced sunshine wolves who had come this afternoon had grabbed the caribou man with bruising force.

sensing that this was his end, cen fought powerfully, necessitating the addition of a third body to subdue him. but he kicked a pile of pelts over and broke a drying-rack of newly caught fish in his ambitions, snarling and shouting in lanzadoii.

the legs of others were around him when he glanced up at last, and saw bloodstained faces, and his mouth ran dry as shadows slanted around the pine forest and the gigantic stone.

she spoke, and he hated her, and said nothing, only growled once until a blow to the side of his head said speak.

"it is my right!" cen shouted in defiance to those gathered, to those above him.

the man cen had not come back to the forest. his scent no longer wound through the village of moontide, and instead sulukinak found it trailing in to village moonglow along with that of the woman and child.

the shadow girl stole away through this place of sunshine. she took notice of the lax border patrol, and the bodies moving up the mountain. those of dutch's village were welcome in the coastal place of chakliux and so she thought, the mountain too would welcome her.

as she climbed, she heard the sounds of struggle and quickened her pace. she heard the crash of a drying rack, heard the raising of voices, and then caught sight of the man cen being corralled.

she saw the moonwoman, and ducked among the trees to keep out of sight herself, wanting to see and to understand. but what was there to glean here?

cen was being held.

he shouted things she did not understand, and then made a claim which did not clear up any of the questions swirling in her mind.

her gaze locked upon him from the shadows, and she lurked, wanting to know more.

Doe was vicious.

Doe was unyielding.

Doe watched the man writhe in the summer grasses with eyes like thorny brambles. Her head tilted up further and further with every slung word, until she was truly looking down her nose at the caribou man.

Her muzzle lifted into a sneer

His right, he says! Her voice rose above her mother’s. Old Doe trumpeted in the back of her mind, and for once, she actually listened to her.

His right, to beat a woman! To make her fear for her life! To draw blood from her, mark her forever with an ownership of pain! She moved, steadily, in a circle so she could be heard from each direction, until she whirled to face the caribou man.

What do we think of his right, moonwoman, sunman?

Sunfire burning in riverstone eyes.

It was a simple matter, in the isbjörn's mind. Not of good and evil. Not of rights or culture. It was peace and safety — things he cared to provide for his wife when he was called to. Things he cared to provide for any wife, any woman, any children. And he saw the anger in Cen's eyes and believed that he did not care.

That he could not be trusted to care, rather. That he might rather go back and kill her than allow what this passed for in his mind. Injustice to him. Justice, perhaps, so the sunshine wolves? Valiant did not yet feel he was one of them. This did not feel like justice at all.

He held Cen firmly all the same, believing the man to be slated for death. Let them wash their hands of this in his blood. Valiant saw no other way to end this.

If he could catch Vairë's eyes, he only gazed steadily back. He knew why she was angry. If he let himself, he thought he would be angry, too. But it was important, he thought, for such things to be decided without emotion as well as with it.

Let Vairë be righteous. He felt it was her birthright. He, a new father, a veteran, a witness? Let him be pragmatic. It was what he did best.

The grandfather stone was often a perch which Aiolos sat. Drinking up the sunlight as he looked out to the river connecting to the great lake which filled out the center of their home. Today, Aiolos was perched upon it again, yet this time with Kukutux. This time with Valiant and Vaire. They wore red in blood, he wore red of pelt. 

Vaire was wild, burning of hot flames like her father before her! She shouted out at Cen, out at the crowd. Aiolos leans over the edge of the rock as Cen growls and curses out his words. A snarl ripped from Aiolos, tongue flicking like a snake between his teeth. It may be your right among the Lanzadoii, but it is not among the Sunshine people. And from the place which Aiolos was raised, a man held no right over a woman. Not now. Not ever. To have the caribou man say such sickened the Sunman. 

On the island which I was raised, retribution for this was simple. He speaks, teeth still baring as he lifts himself back up into a high sit. He is unworthy to be husband or father. See to it that he cannot be ever again. Then allow him stay, repenting by his shame. A fine line between harsh and cruel and it was likely so that Aiolos had crossed this. A punishment which would have not caused an ounce of hesitation among the Nereides. 

Yet I pledge another choice: to be banished from all Moon villages. That he be made an enemy by them all and that this knowledge is extended to our allies the same. Moonglow had extensive connections to many, but all of the Moon villages and all their allies? Wherever Cen could go for a home, it would be far from here. 

teeny tiny cameo!

peregrine had little say in this, and yet he watched anyway.
he longed so badly to heckle, to jeer, to call the man a coward, a bitch, whatever else came to his foul mind. his eyes were hard; his face was set in a scowl; but aiolos dazzles him with the power in his voice, and he felt a shiver run from his neck to his tail tip.
he feels inclined to agree. let him pay.

no posting order, still feel free to join as audience! <3

his right.

vairë railed in righteous fury. aiolos proclaimed with all of sun man's power that can be exiled, and kukutux nodded slowly, but in truth she wished for the caribou man to die. "you have spoken truly today, both of you. a man who believes it is his right to strike his wife may not heed exile without more warning. what is to stop this man from lingering outside moontide, waiting to capture his wife? or perhaps he takes a new woman and harms her in the same way?"

in truth, the suggestion of ending the caribou man as potential father also sat well with kukutux, who exchanged a long look with both aiolos and vairë, approval for all that had been said shining in her face. "in my mind, his life should be taken and given to sedna. to let him breathe after this day is more goodness than he gave to his wife."

now her own cold green stare rested heavily upon cen, and she lifted her chin. "since blood has been shed, let blood be his punishment. should he be exiled, i say first that his left eye should be taken. he says it is his right to cause pain. the same should be given. then let him be sent away, forever, and if he should be seen again, he will be given to the afterworld of his caribou people."

through the proceedings, cen seemed to close in on himself. the hard slate eyes still simmered with fury, and he fought harshly the shock and fear which emerged within him.

a slinking guilt ate at cen. was red leaf alive? surely she was, else they would have killed him already. what did she suffer? and ghelan! all cen had discovered of himself was how deeply he missed the boy, how he would give much to have the little bundle near him, near red leaf.

the younger woman, the moondoe, her fury took a palpable form, expanded by the rumble of her father, from whom he almost quailed in a physical jerk. in firsthunter's grasp he began to tremble, a subtle thing that began in his limbs.

when the ageing woman spoke again, it was to say she wanted his life, cen's stomach lurched, but not nearly as much as when her words centered themselves around blood for blood.

would they take his manliness? his eye, truly!? cen clamped his jaw hard to keep from shouting for any mercy, pain already starting to spark in his body as he imagined wolfteeth biting into him.

The isbjørn was alarmed when sunman suggested punishment. Not for hatred of the concept itself, but because it left them with a cruel enemy forever threatening their doorstep. He was thankful when Kukutux spoke for Cen's removal, and afterward, finally lifted his voice to speak from above the hobbled man, one paw still clawing between the man's shoulder's.

"Punishment without love has no hope of true correction," he intoned, remembering something his aunt had once said. "We punish our children because we want them to be better — but this is a grown man. He ought to know better and he ought to do better, but he ain't. I don't trust him to be better, no matter what we tear off of him. I trust he's gonna be what we know him to be: cruel and vile. No matter what he deserves — and it's my opinion that it ain't much — I don't want the threat of him hanging over this woman's head. No matter how hard we try and protect her, we can't guarantee we'll catch him before he gets to her."

His claws had flexed unconsciously into Cen's flesh as the idea agitated him.

"I'll do it," he offered, "'Cause to be honest, I'm more worried about what we can do for that poor baby and his momma than what's left to talk about with this piece of shit. The sooner it's done, the sooner she can start to put their lives back into order. And that's justice, to me."

Aiolos suggested banishment, or a taking of his manhood. Kukutux an eye, or his life.

Valiant suggested his life.

Vairë’s teeth itched. Her gaze turned to the crowd as if she were a gladiator, entertaining Roman nobles. She sliced a paw through the air to stand in front of Cen. Moondoe burned with unholy fire, silhouetted by the blaze of sun as she stared down her muzzle.

She looked to her husband.

No. She looked over her shoulder for approval from her mother, cold rage in her eyes.

He struck a woman. He attacked her, broke her down, bloodied her skin. It is only by Sedna’s grace that she still draws breath. This is not a job for a man. Her gaze went back to the man, staring at his eye, his throat, his haunches.

I accept any harm he comes to. But a woman should inflict it.

She hefted an executioner’s axe, and waited to let it fall.

Little cameo, Kyrell can be skipped

Kyrell sat within the crowd. Emerald eyes cold upon the foreign man. Gifted from Moontide to be judged, punished, and—potentially—executed.

The woodsman quietly pondered why Cen was here, facing righteousness by those unknown to him. Were Rodyn and Heph of Moontide unfit to enact punishment themselves? Did they think the ordeal unpleasant to handle themselves? It was a wretched thought to attribute their characters, but it buzzed softly in the back of his mind. He pushed it aside, instead turning his head towards the other faces of the audience. Was the wife here? She would be the most important witness to this trial. He had difficulty making out scents unknown to him, so his eyes scanned for any face he hadn't glimpsed in passing before. Yet one did not stand out to him. He hoped she truly was safe, wherever she was.

Kyrell looked back to the beast that lay pinned beneath the first hunter, head upon the block for Väire, who stood as proposed executioner. That was what Cen was after all, a beast. He did not deserve to be named a man, the same as the grey beast that trespassed upon Hearthwood way back. What was a father and husband to be but a protector of his own? Cen failed in thinking that the threats came from his own home.

Kyrell felt alligned with the Sunman, Aiolos, in punishment. Split the beast's tongue, remove his manhood. Let him wander, unable to claim himself a man ever again. Still the little voice that droned in his thoughts whispered that someone relevant to this sorry tale was absent. Eyes hardened upon Cen, Kyrell did not raise his voice into the proceedings, allowing the moon wolves to determine the beast's atonement. If it was determined that he be slain, so be it.

more wolves came, and more words were spoken. accusations. talk of punishment. talk of stealing pieces or the entirety of cen away - and sulukinak could lurk no more.

these wolves claimed to be so good, and yet they held righteous violence at the ready when people wronged their ideals. cen was not a sunshine person and so what right did these people have to intervene?

sulukinak was not one of them; cen was her blood, and so she came from the dark of her hiding place to weave through the crowd and move swiftly to where he was being held. perhaps someone would stop her short, and then she would only stare at faces. eyes shifting from person to person to cen to kukutux to sunman - doe girl.

cen is mine. my family. do not take him from me, vaire with her internalized rage; shifting then to the man valiant, feeling her body shake with nerves. to kukutux, cen said we would go. please. we would go and never come back! go far from moon tribes, but go together.

he was her only family. he had promised these things and now sulukinak hoped to levy such promises against fate and against the tumult of these people's anger. whatever he had done, even if the claims were true - they would be gone from this place.

sulukinak could not lose another connection in this world.

Exiled or castrated. Blood for blood. Exile it would be. Aiolos almost felt displeased. He did not want to know of him taking more wives, having more children that may one day grow with his same sour blood. Aiolos felt castration might drop the man's arrogance down a knotch. Or two. Or three. 

Blood would be spjlt yet still, however. Cen would not go unmarred. Kukutux pledged that they should take an eye, so now he may only have one to focus his hunts on the caribou. So that he would only have one to focus his attack on his mate, should he try to come back or should he take another.  

Yet alas, Kukutux's true want for death did not go unnoticed. Valiant agreed. Buy no- Vaire would, a woman should. It was once a thought Aiolos had time and time again, when they were faced with a hard choice such as this. Aiolos worried to keep them alive, meant an enemy freed. Aiolos spoke of exile, of ripping off bits, because he knew sentencing a man to death was unlikely so. Yet this day and with time and pain aging them, there was nothing left for forgiveness. Nothing left for mercy. 

Death, Death, DEATH! 

Cen Lanzadoii of the caribou hunters, you have now been judged and you are hereby sentenced -

His amber eyes turned sharp, held there on the dark woman who came before them. Aiolos did not know her. He only looks, his ginger ears turning back for the voices of his wife and daughter.

no posting order!

did valiant speak for death? kukutux searched the man as he spoke with the same earnest nature that had surely drawn vairë to him. while moonmother was inclined to disagree that agony would not deter cen, she stood with valiant on the matter of red leaf and her son.

they must be protected. 

valiant offered. vairë gave her words for the power of women against this man who had harmed one of them, and kukutux nodded once at this. 

aiolos rose to deal out the final order, but before his voice condemned the caribou hunter, another sang out. kukutux knew at once who this was, the darkshadow girl confused over her place in many ways. beloved by dutch.

she pleaded for cen, and kukutux watched as the prisoner's head moved toward her with sharp and visible relief. there was no lie, then. "sulukinak of village morningsong has spoken for cen lanzadoii."

she stood to stand beside aiolos, their shoulders brushing. "do you have understanding that if you speak for this man, you too are forbidden from the moon territories?" she could not control dutch's land, and did not seek to do so, but if sulukinak stood openly with a man who had harmed his own wife, there was no word for her which kukutux could give.

so much of this common sound! cen, despite his terror, bristled with rage in the grasp of the one who was called first-hunter. 

the doe woman spoke to take up her teeth against him for this punishment, and he flashed his own fangs in defiance. no caribou man would sacrifice his throat, loins, or eye in peace. they could pluck all of these things from cen after he was dead, after he had killed the old woman and scarred the rest of the doe bitch's face.

the great scarlet man loomed over cen, and he stared up in hateful ebbing of that fear, readying to be agonized and exiled, and perhaps killed all the same.

"sulukinak!" cen gasped out as he twisted toward her, his shock lost in the rush of her own words. she spoke for him! for him! relief vied with horror; his stomach lurched, and cen snapped his head back to the village mother as she too rejected the shadow.

but she did not deny what was said! 

before his kin could answer or anyone else could speak, cen tried to approach the dais of stone, fighting valiant, supplication clear in his face. "i go! we go, far from sunshine lands. red leaf — i throw her away!" the caribou man declared, eyes darting frantically. "never go back to moon sea village, yes? go far, far, far, with sulukinak, so far you forget name of cen, yes? please. i go."

he did not want his eye taken, his manhood scarred; he feared the pain more than the anguish of his wife, feared the pain and humiliation of maiming and exile more than his anger controlled him.

for now.

Flip him.

There was little of Vairë’s warmth in her eyes as she spoke. Her anger was the desert, sucking out every ounce of good will she could offer. Her eyes never left the man, the creature who could barely be called a man. Grass whispered over her paws as she took another step forward.

She imagined it running with rivulets. She felt sick, but swallowed her nausea with practiced ease.

Then, a voice. The shadow girl spoke from the dark, spoke for a man who had near killed the rest of her family. Vairë’s head swung towards her in disbelief, disgust. It was plain on her face as she stared out past the blood. Her eyes turned to her mother, then back to the girl, then to the man.

She wanted to strike him. It was a realization that curdled her insides, but fed the anger. Old Doe sneered.

Ha! She would accept stag with anger in his heart! Let her learn. 

Her eyes traveled from her mother, to the shadow again, and she stood up taller.

You would accept him after all he’s done? An accusation, flung wild from her lips like spittle.

He must still be marked for what he has done! Who knows if he will just get another wife, and beat her to death all the same! What he would do to a daughter!

The man dared move, dared plead. Vairë shot into his path with a snarl, her tail straight in the air. In this, she was in control. In this, she could have his pelt join the ones in her den, his furs to warm her children.

Old Doe hooted in glee.

she was shaking where she stood. none of this made sense to sulukinak except the prospect of departure, of banishment. if this was how people behaved when they lived together to such quantities, she knew she would be happier and safer away from this place.

they each looked upon her with shock, disgust, and rage; she saw her mother's face in her mind and smelled the blood that vaire's spirit summoned to their eye.

there was always a caveat.

we go, far, as he says. so far the name of moon village is not known. away from sunshine place; please! please. could she do it? sulukinak had made such a journey once before and it had nearly ended her - and dutch, would he understand? he had his family, now. he had the sunshine.

to vaire, take your blood price, but not all of him. please.

her mother would have beaten her for such a choice as this, ignoring what she had been well taught as a child; having heard the stories of these horrible men and what they had traded in their travels. but sulukinak was desperate now - she thought only now of cen and their shared blood.

if spilling some would appease these people enough, let them take an eye, let them wound him with traitor's marks, so his crime could be seen plainly.

He didn't know the woman until someone else named her, and then only cold confusion washed through his chest. His dislike for her was immediate, but a secondary strand asked if there was something more he ought to do.

But this was Vairë and Kukutux's trial, and he had but one job to do. When Cen slipped his grasp, he lunged after him with a vicious sound. Vairë put herself in his path, whipping Valiant into an immediate fury. If teeth so much as touched his wife —

Seeing red, uncaring of any injuries he sustained in the process, Valiant wrestled Cen onto his back and lunged for his throat. As much as he wanted to tear it free, for the moment, he only sought to hold on tight. Vairë could do as she wished with him. And if he struggled too much during this, it would not be Valiant's fault his throat could not withstand the force required to hold him still.

Let me know if I should change anything!

So very close they were to executing the man, so that no one would ever need worry of his return - slipping past in the night, attacking a member while our scouting, bringing back an army... these thoughts were always in Aiolos mind when he thought of mercy. 

Now, it would seemed Cen would be slipped loose, if only by the pleading of the blood kin woman speaking for him. He was a cruel fellow, but he was family to her. Aiolos did not think him redeemable, but it would not be an issue any longer among the Moon villages at least, should he stay away. After all, Sunman could not protect all from Cen, but at least could do so in protecting his own. 

Silence befallen him now that the manner seemed settled, Aiolos comes to Cen's side along Valiant. While he held him by the throat, Aiolos front pressed onto his belly, holding him further and biting any flying limbs which came his way. 

His mark (or marks) be whatever Vaire may.

no posting order!

blood must be taken.

blood would be given.

kukutux was still as deer-woman gave her fierce order. the scarlet marks upon the face of mother and daughter caught the light, as did cen's terrified eyes as he was turned onto his spine and laid out before the teeth of vairë.

for a long moment, moonmother gazed steadily at sulukinak. dutch had said she was unsure, frightened, and indeed she herself had seen it at their long hunt.

but fear did not keep the woman from bartering for the life of this man proven now to hurt those he loved.

kukutux would not stop this. sulukinak was not a girl, and perhaps it was best that she was gone from morningside, if this sort of man was where she placed true devotion.

but the anguish would come. as aiolos and valiant held cen, kukutux found the eyes of her daughter. she did not nod to signal. this was a moment for vairë, and she did not need her mother to decide.

but as it happened, the duck's face would remain unreadable, even as blood flowed and the voice of the caribou man rose, and when it was over, she gestured him roughly to sulukinak.

her words did not come. she waited for her daughter to speak, for sivullik to answer, and for sun man to pronounce the judgement he had only suspended for now.

and red stained the dirt there beside the grandfather stone.

there was a mercy in sulukinak's words, though cen only boiled with horror to hear her agree that he should be maimed! punished! a shuddering breath pressed through him, and he turned to look at her desperately, before the one called valiant forced him down in sacrificial bend, loins and face exposed to the punishment of whatever the doe had chosen.

oh! the glacier utuqaq, rising high to shear sharadoii from lanzadoii, and he should have never crossed it. he should have never attempted to replicate the joy that gheli had brought him, for in red leaf there was only the inability to ever love him the way cen had once been loved.

and were it not for her! he would not be here!

but — ghelan. his son! his son; and cen felt the hot tears beginning, of rage, of hatred.

gheli, dancing beside the river;

red leaf beating beneath his heart in the bracken wood;

and ghelan, a part of cen, and so vital that he realized he could not scarcely breathe to know it now.

then there was heat, and blood, a slash of permanent blackness, a ripping which echoed through his entire skull, an agony which forced bubbling vomit from his throat and a scream which tore after it and echoed from the round chain of the spine.

Blood.

It smeared against her mouth, coated her teeth in iron as the salt of tears tanged her tongue. She stared down her nose at the pathetic lump of meat beneath her feet, then she backed away, allowed the man the sanctity to move to his cousin. She motioned her head for Valiant to do the same as she returned to stand beside her mother.

Judge. Jury.

Executioner.

Her teeth itched for his flesh, and she abruptly wanted to spurn the dark featured woman, to lunge down the rock and made good on her promise to hurt. But she didn’t.

Vairë stood, letting the sun burn between her shoulders.

You have until the sun is going from the sky.

Afterwards, she’d take justice into her hands, and level the axe.