Shadewood Mama said, it’s uphill for oddities

The canopies overhead cast the land below in shadows, hardly allowing space for the moon’s light to pass through. Something about the sight was familiar to the young leader, although he could not place it. He remembered the glacier and, more than anything else, the sea—but was there something before the both of them? Something as shaded as these woods they temporarily called home? He couldn’t remember, not even a hint of an image crossed his mind. But there was a knowing glint in the uppik’s eyes, something she wasn’t sharing, and that only made his head ache more. Groaning, the northerner lashed his tail and pinched his eyes shut, now trying to shoo away the headache he’d brought on. Perhaps it would be best if he never remembered.

Sundown in the Shadewood, the trees shaking and the pale moon swelling.
Jocasta sat on an upended log, her face a shroud of shadows, her back catching the shine. She picked up the bird she had plucked from its nest with her teeth.
Bit by bit the feathers came free. They lined the dirt and dipped in to the silt-laden puddles leftover by the rain. Beyond her, something moved. She froze and watched as the shadows parted ahead.
You look lost. She said. Speaking would draw his attention to the patch of shadow where she roosted but she did not mind. He looked like a silver beacon, emanating stolen light in mimicry of the moon.

Slowly but surely did the headache fade away, minor in severity and reluctant to linger. In its place drifted a voice, unfamiliar and feminine, escaping the shadows. Opening his eyes, the northerner blinked once or twice to steady his vision. Shifting his body, he turned his head and scanned the brush briefly, needing only a moment to spot the other, following her voice.

“I’m not lost,” he assured her, turning fully and standing tall, curious but uncertain. “Are you?” She did not appear so, seeming more relaxed than outright panicked—an explorer, perhaps? Seconds went by and, with their passage, his curiosity grew.