Moonspear Is there a spirit that spits upon the exit of signs.

"that is not necessary."

kukutux reappeared at the eaves beneath which revui had been tucked, gaze flicking between desdemona and the departing grey wolfess. keres — but she had only known the stormstar by name. an ostrega, from the look of it. one of their own. one belonging to moonspear. "i was allowed to treat him." 

revui, trader and sickman, notched into the no-man's-land betwixt the glen and the spear. hydra would be busied with seeking mira's whereabouts, and saviguk too had disappeared briefly. the duck was strained, her carefully groomed pelt flyaway and usually pristine paws stained with mud to the ankle from trekking between revui and the shared lands, searching for her son. he had returned, though aloof, and the loss of mira had tugged heavily at her aunt.

she pressed among the two now, seeking the trader's greyscale self and lowering her muzzle to brush his forehead. "the fever demon has gone," kukutux whispered for his ears alone. there was nothing left in the woman to inspire polite nature, nor deference; she felt bereft, clinging to that which she knew. in this moment, it was revui.