Firefly Glen [PHE] she cleans up

the healing circle would always be busy and lively. such a lovely thing!

yet callyope noticed the hushed state of moongrove camp. that the sounds that traveled through there were only the sounds of the nearby groups.

there was a thoughtful look upon the hushed moon daughter.

her gaze sought out @Kukutux in hopes that she might pull her mother aside. she did not need a woman’s circle! only her mother’s council.

seriousness grew. between meetings, between circles, she unslung a pair of new foxhides from her shoulder to lay bloodily upon the ground.

"my daughter," she said softly, moving to stretch the furs skin-up, to prepare them for scraping. but she set this aside and followed callyope into the quieter trees, her eyes asking what she did not speak.

she realized there were many things she could say to her mother then.

she might tell her of kissing rodyn or of the mysterious woman who had warmed her cheeks. she might discuss huntings or trades. all of these things might bring relief.

yet she would find no relief if she did not speak the hardest things.

would it be so terrible to come home, anaa?

she felt so young and so very uncertain. there would be many times to make homes or villages alongside kin. one missed chance did not mean never again.

but the cold nights became a gentle ushering into warm places.

moongrove, set aside.

kukutux smoothed the blood from her paws on torn leaves and shook her head, a look light in her eye. "moonglow is the place of your birth. it will always live in you. come back if you are called."

but what of panuk? kukutux searched callyope for a moment, wanting to know what had brought her to this.

she knew it would.

maybe that was why the shadows felt colder at the foot of the spine. the nights dragged long in the shade of a birth village.

she was reminded of far places where the nights seemed endless — and how she had come back here when she could no longer stand it.

i fall asleep to the sounds of moonglow.

like a child with a favored lullaby.

the camp is quiet and the nights are cold. she rolled a stone beneath her paw in a familiar manner. she had done such when she had buried a wedge between her and seal hunter.

but she did not mean to make any wedges now, only settle something restless to bed.

"we are not meant to build alone," kukutux said quietly, feeling the warmth of callyope's presence beside her and taking a great peace from it.

"panuk may not have the wish to leave," she ventured at last. "but he is old enough to know his own mind."

and what of rodyn? but this she did not ask. not yet.

no matter his wish, i will love and support him. she knew this to be true, right to her very core. just as you have always done for us.

a soft smile, but carrying the weight of many things.

but i do not think i am done having the love and support from you. i cannot run you thin between moon villages for advice on every crush or change of the breeze.

leaning into her mother now and closing her eyes.

so good it would be to have callyope returned to her.

the specter of that lake loomed; she could not bear it, nor the idea of panuk remaining behind to live alone with ariadne's spirit.

but if he speaks to the dead, it is where his heart has led him.

a soft palm smoothed her daughter's brow.

and to the home of her mother is where your heart has led you, crane-woman.

in the soft sunlight, for a time, they would doze.