Ouroboros Spine xi. leaves nowhere to go

AW, naturalist #4

As the sun disappeared behind the stately, if wild, lines of the inky backdrop that the black pines provided, the herdstalker could be found, if not seen, ghosting through the wood on light footsteps -- bound for the small clearing where she had once observed the ptarmigan and startled Zane. The skies were mostly clear, save for a few thin, golden clouds stretching along the horizons -- hardly visible over the crags of Ouroboros' spiny peaks. Lótë thought it would be a good night for stargazing and as it seemed that Raimo had fled the village -- whether because of a fight with Adrastus or with Kukutux she couldn't say for sure -- the two-year no longer felt so awkward moving around the territory. Between the refugees (whom she hadn't disliked so much as avoided out of courtesy since they didn't seem too inclined to merge with Moonglow) and the Spear, it had almost felt like trespassing even if she was an established member of their community.

When she arrived, the small clearing was lit by a few early fireflies -- a hint of the many who would likely inhabit the glen as the season warmed further into summer -- and a few other, less visible insects swarmed the air though not many given the elevation. Still, the dove swished her tail at the gnats as she settled upon the same cool stone hidden in the undergrowth. The storyteller stretched out comfortably atop it, heaving a content sigh as she waited for twilight to come and the stars to reveal themselves.