Altar of Twilight watch me

for @Keres

upon immediate arrival at the altar — which is surely some divine shrine made by mighty titans in honor of tsukuyomi as his sugary moonbeams catch in the bejeweled surface of the rock and reflect upon the emerald vale that sits beneath it — gojira is mesmerized. perhaps, it is not so remarkable, but to the tenrai he can easily find the way in which it threads to him and his beliefs. inherited beliefs that masquerade his “affliction” — he’s heard it whispered by the nay sayers but was never quite sure what it meant — as a wolfdog as something celestial; divine.

singular sunflower gold eye is transfixed, relying upon his hearing heavily, as he does anyway; moreso now that his attention is diverted to the ethereal sight before him. he steps into the moontouched grass, finding that it remains it’s milky emerald hue, that he, too, is touched by moonlight. tsukuyomi — he murmurs the name as if it were a prayer at an alter ( and so it very well might be ) and he bows low in reverence to the moon god whose touch he cannot help but feel in this place.

Other cultures had always been something of a curious thing to the woman draped in silver and gray, even before she had met her late husband. As a child cast out and purposefully forgotten, Keres had been granted ample time to observe the world around her without being brought into its folds; many wolves had come and gone from Winterheart, though most were as fiercely loyal as her grandfather had been. That packs surrounding them, however, and the visitors that came to their borders had been different as night and day. She could remember being fascinated with one or two of the visitors, lingering quietly until they went about their way.

It was the same fascination she held now as she watched the strange looking man bend his spine and display his reverance and subservience both. The difference between the young child she had been and the woman she was now was that her curiousity was much more tame then it had once been, and she did her best to keep herself from staring. The latter was easy, thanks to the way she carefully picked her way through the moonlit valley, the silver of her furs illuminated under the beaming moon.

Hello, She offered gently, making sure to announce herself so as not to startle the man.

with no attempts to be vigilant made as he prostrates himself before the nature made moonbeam alter; gojira is not aware of the woman’s nearing presence. in this sacrosanct place he does not feel that anyone would be so brazen as to attack him — a mistake but one he makes blindly and ignorantly. whether it is an inability or unwillingness to understand that others do not follow the rules of fujimoto copse is unknown …to gojira, they are much one in the same.

hello

the stranger announces her presence and the tenrai rises from his prayer to swing his head towards her so that her sunflower eye fell upon her. the first thing he notices is that she is graced with a silverlit and grey pelage that looks as if it were crafted by the moongod himself. for a moment, gojira stares and then he blinks sheepishly, instinctively canting his head as both to give him a better view and to cast his empty, scarred socket in the shadows.

hell-o. at this point, gojira draws it out in accented tones to be quirky, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. he, at least, finds it quirky. uh, he takes some time to think thru the translations though ‘i am’ or ‘my name’ is growing increasingly easier for him to both say and remember. i am lord fujimoto gojira. he introduces himself with a bow of his head and a sway of his tail against his hocks; friendly disposition making it’s appearance as soon as the formality ( and important, to him ) of introduction is out of the way.

The valkyrie watched with silent patience as the furred titan turned his attention to her, his movements freezing for the briefest moment. Green eyes roved his form and face, noting the stark differences that shaped his form. Keres, having never seen a dog, or a wolf-dog (that she could remember, at least) found herself inquisitive towards not only who he was, but what he was as well. His ears, his scars, the broader muzzle, even the fangs that peeked out from his mouth.

Keres did not find fault in his slow speech, instead simply waiting for the man (creature?) to finish what he was trying to say. Lord Fujimoto... Gojira? It was an interesting name, most certainly foreign and clumsy on her tongue. She would not attempt to pronounce it just yet. She did provide her own name, however. Keres Ostrega. She glances to the area behind him and then back, being forthright with her questions. What were you doing?

she offers a name too, absent a title — or one that he recognizes as such at least — and unaware that it was common tongue custom to put family name last, thinks that ‘keres’ is her family name. keres ostrega, he murmurs her name, testing it out and wincing as he notes how unusual it sounds on his tongue, as if it does not know how to make all the sounds required of it. it falters and stumbles upon her name and he offers her a stiff bow of his head in apology muttering a sheepish, mōshiwakearimasen keres ostrega. not sure what the common equivalent of the term might be. gojira does not mean to dishonor her or her family by butchering her name pronunciation as he does …but cannot help but speak it in full because it follows the honorifics that’s been drilled into his head since he was old enough to hear.

hm? the inquisitive noise accompanies the very domestic dog-esque tilt of his head, torn ear swiveling as he contemplates the words. ‘what’ is all he knows. he blinks at her and a haphazardly pieced assumption is cobbled together as he watches her look to the wall at his back. oh! he exclaims, not accounting for the possibility that he might be mistaken.

i …ah. make pray to tsukuyomi.

As her tongue would have faltered on his name, so his did with hers, putting emphasis on parts of her name that made it sound foreign even to her. It was not something that bothered the silver-touched woman who could not help but cant her head as he lowered his head — in greetings? respect? apology? — and mumbled something alongside her full name again.

Just "Keres" is fine, She corrected, her own ear twisting to listen behind her in case therre were others near them. So close to the Spear, having this canid creature here was quite enough. The presence of other outsiders would just make the Ostrega wary and ultimately untrusting to anything that played out now. But, for the moment, they remained alone, and Lord Fujimoto Gojira answered her question.

Pray. Her eyes settled on him once again as she thought this through, wondering what he was praying for, if anything. Who is... The valkyrie hesitated before attempting, Who is Tsuyomi?

gojira’s grasp on common tongue is admittedly not great but being just passable enough to get by, by the skin of his teeth, he blinks owlishly; confused at her as she corrects him to just use ‘keres’. still, not making the connection that ostrega is her family name he wonders what kind of culture these wolves have that they just go by their family name. family names are important, of course. a sense of identity all it’s own, it was true. ok, he shrugs it off a moment later, trying to think of how he can slip an honorific in there as she hadn’t given him any title like ‘lady keres’. keres-sama. sama, then — the general honorific to address a woman is offered with another swift, stiff bow of his head.

gojira tries not to blanch as she butchers the moongod’s name: he understands that it’s as likely as hard for her to say as her name is hard for him to say. tsu-kuy-o-mi. he sounds it out softly to her, making sure to enunciate each syllable. … he pauses shifting through his small translation dictionary in his mind. uh. god moon?

He was so... stiff. Rigid. She wondered why he held himself so. Was it an old wound that kept him so, or some cultural requirement? Keres had never heard of the latter, though she was not so quick to assume the former, either; for now, she would feel it out without bringing attention to such things, even if she did wonder over the meaning of the addition to her name.

His short lesson in pronunciation was fruitful, and produced a correction to her own, repeating after him. Tsukuyomi... The name did not as gracefully from her tongue as it did his but at least this time, Keres managed to catch all the syllables.

Oh! An exclamation made in light of recognition. In my culture, we call her Selene. Perhaps it was odd that she would share what her husband called his gods in turn, but on the other paw, maybe it would help bridge some of that gap. She would step closer, just a bit, and ask a new question, curiosity plaguing her as it would a fresh-furred babe. What language do you speak?