Moonspear kunnajak ⋠

perhaps @Opalia? :o

death had come and it had exacted a great price from moonspear and from firefly.

kukutux slowly bathed any lasting vestiges of dirt and blood from her pelt, a numb cleansing in icy water before she climbed high with damp fur into the reaches of the mountain, carrying with her a black strip of goatskin and small rounded bone pieces, for she would make an altar for those lost.

she did not whisper their names; kukutux put the picturing of their faces from her mind, and as the winds howled here with throats full of snow that fell upon the duck, she arranged the bones upon a flat surface of stone and tipped her muzzle up toward where the dancing lights might be.

guide them home, sedna

Moonspear ailed. Opalia's paws were tired, and jaw aching from stress. Heart simply worn. The news had been everything awful lately, one blow after the next. Her reflexive response was to help those who remained on the guard.. but it already reminded her of those that had fallen well before their time, and it was only the beginning. She had lost too much before, knew the ugly lengths of grief, and what it could do. A strange, aching peace was threatening to settle in the aftermath. But she didn't trust it at all.

She was attempting to wind down for a rest, but found she couldn't relax yet, her mind buzzing anxiously still. She snaked a familiar trail, and found fresh pawsteps of the medic when she did.. which, given recent events, she warranted more interest than usual. Opalia followed this trail though it went against her first intent to unwind, she was too curious, and felt she should touch base with her. She was not sure what she came upon exactly, though, and sensing the sorrows, stayed quiet.

a slow shuttering of her eyes, but soon kukutux found that she was not alone. opalia came, a woman her age with whom she was not well acquainted. the other was quiet, beautiful, made of sunrays and the pretty ivory of a rabbit's belly. beside her, the gamma felt quite round and matronly. "i greet you," she said softly, stepping back from her small offering.

most stunning was opalia's gaze, like brightly dyed quillbeads: the right a sunrise pink, the left the color of a cloudless summer sky. blessed indeed by the spirits that had shaped her in the womb. "i mean to please the souls of those who have been carried off by the snow and by grandfather bear," the duck said wistfully, painful images crowding her mind.

Once received, respectfully, Opalia dipped her snout and smoothed it into a slow nod. Hei, she returned, a small greeting of her own, and an anchor for her when she felt so looked upon.. so seen. She attempted not to stall her thoughts there, and instead, chalked it up to their relative unfamiliarity so face to face as this; she had yet to have a real reason to become well-acquainted with the pale-furred healer.

The explanation to come, thankfully, gave plenty else--though she felt as if she did not understand exactly, it was enough to get her close. Given everyone that they had lost, any way to soothe the departed souls was worth a moment. She breathed a soft sigh, feeling the sadness rise as she thought of them, gone. The mountain had gained too many graves. Is there anything I can do to help? the pale warrior asked.

an answer in a language she had not yet heard; kukutux' alabaster ears cupped forward softly. "perhaps this time is good to say to them what you have not yet said," the medicinewife suggested in a shy note. she wanted to tell the sunset-woman not to speak their names aloud, for so newly they had walked away from their lives.

but perhaps they would hear, and give the stonegem a piece of their favor. 

silently she stood back, awaiting to see what the other might say. "i am kukutux," came her soft voice in spite of herself; a small small dancing upon her lips for a moment before it faded into a respectful impassivity.

Her own ears splayed just a notch, contemplating what the healer gave her back. There was so much she could say, and she was not even exceptionally close to many of those that had gone too soon--but she had good cases of camaraderie with many of them. As she recounted the faces, it only deepened, wounding her too.

She knew the pause she left there was heavy, but it did not feel misplaced as she gathered her thoughts. Where to start? There could be so much, she sighed, trying to keep it softened. I'm Opalia. I am.. a guardian, once with many of them who have gone, she cited her place in this, or rather the one she could most easily define.

But sadly the gold Drakru was no stranger to grief. Handling it well, and neatly was another matter. She would miss Desdemona's steady watch and company. Keres, Toad... all inspiring presences that she had quietly enjoyed. Osiris too, she had wished to see flourish in her own distant way--Dacio had died to protect him, after all. It was only the half of it, and it alone stung.

so many words held in the fishing basket of one's heart. kukutux knew well the ache; her mind traveled in saddening toward arcturus, but she kept it from creeping to inspire the name of the brother who had died. the duck dared not speak his title, of all the ones she now carried, for none had died in such anger as the trader had gone.

chilled through with a fearful melancholy, the duck forced herself to focus upon what the other was saying. opalia, something gemstone like the polished glass stones of the cold shoreline. and she had known the others. the duck bit her lip, and then spoke the first words unthinking and ungarish: "is it hard to be here now?"

The gold-furred guardian answered first with a slow blink, having not anticipated a question of the sort while she brooded on those she would miss--and the vast absences they left behind when she had only begun to cope with Dacio's. She drew a steady breath in. It is not easy, she replied truthfully, and earnest with the question. But I have learned to live with loss before. It is.. There, she sighed, for in all of this, her brother still remained painfully close to her heart. Heavy, everywhere.. sometimes. Opalia concluded. She had learned that in her time away in the fresh wake of his loss. Here, or there, it stung until the scars grew in.

Have you said your part to them already? she asked, wondering of her proximity to any of them beyond a medic's standpoint, and packmate of course.

a voice spoke in the snowduck's breast. moonspear and the glen must be rebuilt. kukutux looked with fresh gaze upon opalia, watching with a minute surprise as the beautiful gemstone grew soft and vulnerable before her eyes. and then her harrowjade eyes had slid to the bones.

a sigh expanded her flanks.

"yes. they have my words with me as they travel to the lights." kukutux did not clarify, though would have done so had the lovely woman inquired after it. she caught tonguetip between teeth, waiting. "when my first great grief came, i found solace in my children," she said gently, briefly.

Though ultimately an affirmation, the answer carried more. Opalia did not know of these lights towards which the deceased were traveling, not in so few words, at least. Her thoughts on what came after were too indistinct; they had always felt like a taboo to her, not for her to see, or contemplate yet. But, lights? They deserved an illuminated path.

Then, there was even more. A first great grief.. which admittedly, had her attention as it so gently implied more--which struck more familiar to her personally, even staring the face of these new losses down. Grief had scarcely left her young life. However that similarity ended there because right, the healer was a mother, and her young were well-woven into the mountain's family. It is good to have someone, I think.. she spoke quietly, sensing it didn't matter who. My own first grief, I still had my father. And my brother, to be there for me, when her mother had died, and heda not long after. But now I am all that is left of them. And this mountain the last home she had found any worth upon.

opalia was alone. behind the gilded beauty of her face was a sorrow that kukutux strangely wished to assuage. "it is good to have someone," the duck repeated softly, thinking of wintersbane. of aiolos. "i am sorry that you have seen such loss."

the falling rocks — the memory of them blood-vibrant and horrible to this very hour —

"i am the last of my own as well," kukutux whispered softly. "but you do not have to be alone as i once was, opalia." breath gone dry somehow. she drew her strength from the snow-draped surroundings. "there are two men. one lives here in moonspear, and the other upon the sea, in yuelong. both have much to offer a wife. both have asked me to be matchmaker." a pregnant silence falling.

A delicate subject, and Opalia answered with a small nod. It hurt less now than it ever had, but all loss irritated the old wound somehow. Especially when she feared hers might never heal entirely. But, even beyond a similarity between them, it went on next to the mention of men, one by the sea--a matchmaker, she was torn on how to feel in a sudden confusing rush as she pieced together the implications. She didn't have the heart to seek out a relationship, or build one from scratch when her interests were still miles away, still craving for revenge, and simpler things. And neither had she envisioned herself a suitable wife.

For a thoughtful moment she looked at the snow at her paws, gathering her feelings on such for one of the first times. I don't know. To build something like that about of almost nothing..? Daunting, to her, she admitted. And I worry, as I have never thought of myself as.. a picture-perfect wife, she spoke on quietly. How could she settle down, provide, create, when her heart was still so restless over unfinished business? Business that the yoke of bonds, love, and family ties would only inhibit her in, she feared.

kukutux shook her head softly. "it is not perfection that makes a wife. it is only devotion." she herself with a thousand flaws, and jarilo had not given her a word toward one of them. she believed it loyalty and the interweave of affection. the second had grown upon the loom of the first.

there had only ever been peace in being his choice.

"i left the things that i knew because they did not bring me peace." they had not saved her, the memories; in the end it had been first the elf and then the blackbear. "there are times where a woman must leave behind what is known and make a life that belongs only to her. it is those times where she discovers how to build, and she realizes she will build good things." the jadeite gaze solemn as it searched the striking cloudberry features of her companion.

The pale warrior stood by in thoughtful silence, digesting the thought--first, of devotion, and how the very same had been important to her before. She had searched once for a leader worth devoting herself to, after losing her heda, and the subsequent drifting from the cause of her birth. Devotion was an important pillar before.

In the rest? She blinked, and sensing that these words truly came from a place of experience, she felt a little humbled in their presence honestly. I suppose so, she agreed, no argument there--wondering suddenly if her own mother once felt something like that. Opalia already felt that she had left behind a lot of known when Drageda fell, but it had motivated her in a different direction at the time.. not necessarily towards good things. It doesn't seem impossible, sure. It all feels a foreign thought to aim at myself, my path in life so far has been in a different direction, maybe.. she spoke gently. But then again, I understand time changes things. It all depends on a lot.. she was unable to neatly package the idea of what she was getting at there.

there was much to say, and much that could not be translated from the language of the heart. "you are young and very beautiful," the gamma chose to say directly. "you will find your way. let this only be one of many."

it was not something she wished to say to sialuk, for her thought of hearth and clan must extend to protect any daughters. but there were many differences here. kukutux did not war as men did; there were closer things to be fought when it came to matters of the spirit. "on my island, a woman always made final choice. she was never traded or made to do something she did not want to do."

For the moment, she admired how.. straightforward the matchmaker was to her, though it left her in a strange space. Opalia had to glance away, cheeks feeling warm before she did. Young, and very beautiful. She was not missing these implications of her usefulness in.. certain regards. But to apply to herself? Strange. Foreign. Thanks. I do intend to.. find my way, wherever it goes, she replied, attempting to sound secure in the thought. And hope it is what my heart needs most. It's what has brought me here, so far. Opalia reasoned, a soft tease of an almost-smile. She tried to keep it light after that, mostly for her own sake.

I think that's how it should be, she murmured, agreeing that a woman should make the final choice. In her lifetime, they had always held great power like Antumbra and Hydra, but that was not the only shade of strength they carried. Others like Portia, Aure, Blixen, even.. To her, they were not only bartering chips to pass around for someone's scheme. Far more than that, really. They deserve the final say in.. many things, she nodded. Many she had looked up to, all for many reasons. To her, they had earned the right.

we can continue or fade <3 or have another depending on plans!

 

she smiled. "i agree." and was silent. opalia did not seem ready for this sort of thing. she would not push. one came to such when they had prepared themselves. and after her life in this wilds, kukutux had come to see the merit of exploring the newness as deeply as one might. 

"in the springtime, i would like to have a hunt for those in moonspear. i want to be first hunter." something light touched her features. "perhaps you might come with me." all of their clan, surging in pursuit and in glory. it was a golden feeling not unlike the brush of love.