Moonspear agnaurak ✢

jarilo's features warned to her suggestion, which sent a flush of shy pleasure through her. "yes," the snowdrop answered softly. "my mother showed me what must grow in a garden." relieved to know a small portion of her ways might be utilized in moonspear, kukutux breathed a small sigh.

his comment swept her ears forward, and the duck considered all the things that hydra had said during their conversation. springtime was a season of new green leaves, of returning birdsong — of children.

perhaps the allusion to that in what jarilo had said was her mere projection. his viridian gaze was thoughtful, observant, but ultimately unreadable compared to the open tome kukutux had always been. "i must gather things for birth," the waterbird ventured. "perhaps when the sun returns i will go and see what is outside moonspear's walls."

she wished to tell the careful man of the robin-blue and the soft, buttery tones of the little wildflowers, but the odd translations always tangled her tongue. and kukutux, who knew only that she was inviting to jarilo, not what he truly thought of her, was unwilling to trip over herself in his presence.