Ouroboros Spine My night with the prostitute from Marseille.

They lingered near the plateau for a week before departing east. Towhee showed her son how to hunt groundhogs in a winter field. They glutted on her kill for a day or two. Bushtit claimed the head for himself and did his best to strip and clean it, though the task proved more challenging than he’d anticipated.

Still toting the rotting cranium, he strode alongside his mother as they pointed their muzzles south. Scenting wolves in the neighboring forest—she felt a small pang when she realized her harbor was no longer safe—Towhee gave it a wide berth as she led them toward the northern fringes of Ouroboros Spine.

Last but not least: Moonglow, Towhee announced as they rolled to a halt, eyes drifting over the views before cutting over to Bushtit. You—what’s wrong?

He’d dropped the nasty skull, which rolled to the side. Bushtit sat suddenly and hard, pawing at his throat. His eyes bulged as he made choking noises Towhee couldn’t hear. But she didn’t need to.

Bush, she said loudly and unnecessarily, crowding into his space before abruptly slamming a paw against his upper back.

It did the trick. Something flew from the pup’s mouth. Towhee watched him gasp in several breaths, slowly but surely recovering. He sank to the ground and she did too, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

You scared the shit out of me, Towhee murmured, pressing her muzzle to Bushtit’s temple as a foreleg snaked over his back. Sorry I hit you, kiddo. Shit.

Bushtit shot her a little smile and shook his head, leaning hard against his mother, both of them momentarily forgetting they were sitting on Moonglow’s doorstep.

Luhtar had been watching quietly from a short distance away, half-hidden behind a spindly shrub at the forest’s edge. He’d caught their scents—outsiders pressing close to Moonglow’s land—and had approached with caution.

The older she-wolf’s tension was clear, and when the younger one choked, Luhtar’s muscles coiled, ready to intervene if need be.

But before he could decide to step forward, the mother slammed a paw against her pup’s back, dislodging whatever had stuck there.

Luhtar winced at the crack of impact, his ears flicking with sympathy. "Ouchie." He could not stop himself from verbally reacting, and when he did, yellow eyes flew open with surprise. Now that his cover was blown, if he'd ever been as covered as he'd thought, Luhtar decided to take things into his own paws.

He took a slow step forward, letting a soft chuff roll from his throat—announcing himself without hostility. "Kid alright?"

Towhee remembered herself the instant Bushtit’s eyes flew somewhere behind them, clearly reacting to some auditory cue she couldn’t possibly detect. In one swift movement, she pivoted to face the stranger emerging from the shrubbery and sidestepped to block the view of her child.

Her orange eyes bored into the unfamiliar wolf, noting his cautious approach even as she assessed his size and strength. He wore a palette of earth and stone, the blend rather striking along his withers, but Towhee didn’t allow herself to get distracted. Her gaze cut back to his face, yellow eyes set into stout features.

She glanced briefly at the top of Bushtit’s head—he remained sprawled on the ground, body loosely curling around her nearer foreleg—and then back to the man. Towhee’s tail switched, then she nodded.

He’s gonna be fine, she said more to herself than to him. We’re here to visit, she told him in the next breath, assuming you’re from Moonglow?

Luhtar’s ears flicked back momentarily, catching himself at the mistake. He straightened slightly, though his posture remained neutral, his tail swaying once in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Not Moonglow,” he corrected, though not harshly, warmly. “Forneskja. We share border. Our Hárkonungr soon wed Moonwoman daughter.” His yellow eyes drifted to the pup sprawled near the mother’s legs, then back to her sharp orange gaze.

“You here visit?” he asked, his head tilting slightly. “Can guide further to Moonglow. Or Forneskja close, can rest with us. Hárkonungr welcome mother of pup if behave.” A soft tease upon his well-meaning speech.

Luhtar paused, his rough voice softening as he added, “Kid look tired. You too."

He wasn’t from Moonglow, though Towhee missed the name of his pack and the next several words when she saw Bushtit cough. She clapped him on the back more gently now, giving him a concerned once-over before returning her gaze to their new acquaintance in time to catch, “—welcome mother of pup if behave.”

You’ll never meet a more well-behaved child, Towhee told him with some measure of pride, and it’s not just ‘cause he nearly died just now. He’s perfect even when he’s fully operational. A few more soft pats before she concurred, We are a bit taxed after that, huh?

She slipped her paw from her son’s back and pointed a toe at the skull. Bushtit shook his head, unwilling to pick it up again. Towhee frowned at the loss but decided it wasn’t worth the choking hazard. She hesitated, then very suddenly scooped it up and flung it away with all the force she could muster.

YEET! she bellowed for Bushtit’s entertainment.

She turned to see her son smiling and rubbing his chest a little. Towhee frowned and stepped toward him, offering nuzzles of comfort. He was out of danger, though she imagined the shortness of breath and discomfort would linger a while longer. She made an executive decision in that instant not to move from this spot for a bit.

I think we’re just gonna park here for now. You’re welcome to hang with us if you like. I didn’t catch your name. We’re Towhee, she offered, gesturing at herself, then at her inverted copy, and Bushtit.

He let his gaze linger on Bushtit for a moment, offering a small tilt of his head in welcome. “Strong pup,” he remarked quietly, remembering how close that choking had been. “You do good,” he said to Towhee, his tone rough but sincere. “He alive, that most important. No more skull in mouth,” he teased gently, the ghost of a smile creasing his features.

When she mentioned staying put, he settled back onto his haunches, tail giving a slow sweep against the ground in an unmistakable gesture of ease.

“I stay,” he rumbled. “No rush. Nice… meet mother, pup. I Luhtar.” He shrugged broad shoulders, letting silence fill the gap for a breath before adding in a quieter tone, “If you want company, I have no complaint.”

-He talks funny,- Bushtit observed.

Towhee nodded at him, then quelled further commentary with a look. She appreciated the simplicity of Luhtar’s speech. It made lipreading easier.

I’m wondering what exactly he choked on, Towhee posited aloud. Maybe a tooth came loose or something? Or he inhaled a piece of brain? Now she gave the boy a teasing glance. But yeah, I’m glad you’re still with us.

She ruffled the fur on his head, then nudged him toward the ground. Bushtit tucked himself down beside her. Towhee waited for him to settle, then sprawled beside him, facing Luhtar after a quick glimpse at Bushtit’s bushwhacked face.

I feel like someone could use the comfort of a bedtime story. Know any good ones, Luhtar?

Luhtar tilted his head, ears twitching at Towhee’s question. A story? His yellow eyes drifted briefly to the boy nestled beside her, then back to Towhee’s curious gaze.

He shifted his weight, settling more comfortably onto his haunches, the faintest flick of his tail betraying his amusement.

“Hmm,” he began, vox thoughtful. “I know story. Old one. From my kin. About fox and bear.”

His words unhurried as he wove the tale. “Bear is strong. Big. Thinks he is smartest in forest. Fox is small, not strong… but clever. One day, bear say to fox, ‘We hunt together. I take best part of food, you take rest.’” He paused, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Fox agree. But fox have plan.”

He glanced at Bushtit, his yellow eyes glinting with playful intrigue. “They catch fish at river. Bear say, ‘I take head. Head best part.’ Fox nod. Bear eat head, leave rest. Next hunt, they catch rabbit. Bear say, ‘I take legs. Legs best part.’ Fox agree again. Bear happy, eat legs.”

“But next time, they catch big bird. Bear say, ‘I take wings! Wings best part!’ Fox smile. Bear eat wings. Then fox take rest—everything left.”

He leaned forward slightly, his rough voice almost conspiratorial now. “Bear realize too late. Fox take all meat. Bear only eat bones. Fox say, ‘You always take best part. I just take rest.’”

Luhtar straightened, his expression serious for a moment, then he let the humor break through with a sly glint in his eye. “Bear angry. Very angry. Chase Fox through forest, through snow, through rivers. But Fox too fast, too clever. Bear try and try—never catch him.”

He gestured vaguely with a paw. “In end, both lose. They both hungry.”

It was kind of a tall ask, coming from nearly perfect strangers. For a moment, Towhee wasn’t sure Luhtar would indulge them. But then he shifted his weight and settled, a ponderous look on his broad face. Then he began to speak, weaving a tale about a bear striking a deal with a fox.

Towhee missed most of it, her gaze drifting down to watch Bushtit’s face as the story unfolded. He looked very curious at first, eyes bright. But after his ordeal, it wasn’t surprising when he faded fast. He fought it, eyes drooping and then reopening, but it wasn’t long before his chin fell to his chest.

She looked up to catch the end of the story, which concluded on sort of a sour note. But Towhee was all smiles, even offering Luhtar a wink. Was there any higher compliment than a pup falling fast asleep to your story, really?

Thank you, she said in what she hoped was a quiet voice. I don’t mean to keep you, so you don’t have to stay. I’ll probably catch a few winks myself. You know what they say about sleeping when the baby sleeps… Towhee’s tail tapped the ground. It was nice meeting you.