Ouroboros Spine The seas part when they hit the floor.

The boy had climbed to the heart of the village and then up high, where the air made him feel a bit fluttery. He carried the fox pelt with him as if it were a security blanket, unaffected to the tugs of broom or low hanging branches; it wasn't in as pristine a condition as before, but it still served a purpose.

He was intent on finding a hidden place to watch the goings-on of Moonglow minus any obtrusive visitors, and the ledge he now followed was taking him to a suitable vantage point. It tapered often and Nuak, not being a skilled mountaineer in any regard, struggled to find the courage to continue from time to time. The path eventually opened to a slate slab large enough for himself and, perhaps, one other body.

Eager for a rest, he tossed the fox fur down as close to the mountainous wall as he could, then dropped down upon it, belly first.

@Keyni or @Sialuk, or whoever!

While some might have rushed into such a journey, Sialuk was a slow, thoughtful wolf. She did think Lote was the correct choice to bring with her to the Redhawk village, and now that anaa was healed, it was a good time to go. In a week's time, perhaps. She needed to ask the bones, to be sure that everything would go as planned.

She knew that her time on this earth was growing close to a full year, based on what anaa had said about the time of her birth, and it pained her to know that brataa would not be here to share the momentous occasion with her. He and taataa would miss many moments she wished to share with them. She held them in her heart, hoping that they found peace on the island of the dancing lights.

Her wanderings found her upon a large wolf who had lost his ears. He was dark with small light freckles on his face, a negative mirror of what Sialuk had seen in a calm pool when she viewed herself. He was not one she knew, but she had not kept up with all those who came and went from Moonglow's claim.

I greet you, she said, approaching with no malice or caution. If he was of Moonglow, Kukutux had allowed him to stay here.

He had barely gotten settled when a voice shot out of nowhere, following one of the many paths he had woven up the mountainside. His head rose from where he'd placed it on crossed limbs, while his tattered ears tried to pivot and focus the sound.

Nuak saw Kukutux standing there; except this wasn't really her, this was someone smaller. She looked to be closer to his own age, without any uncertainty upon the path. The tone of her voice had been light and level, not exactly inviting but not hostile either.

Nuak caught himself wondering who she was — before remembering he shouldn't care, they could have been dangerous. Especially if they held such a pretty face.

He scowled and stood up, but only to adjust himself even closer to the stone wall behind his body, and wedge himself in to a smaller coil as he lay down. His ears twitched and followed the sounds of her body; her breathing, the sound of claws against stone if she shifted her weight — but otherwise he was not welcoming of her presence.

He did not respond. She spotted the fox pelt then, a piece of it sticking out from beneath him.

I do not come to steal from you, she assured him, feeling that he was none too happy that she was there.

I am Sialuk. How are you called? she asked.

She kept her distance from him as much as she could on the small ledge, keeping space between them. If she needed to, she could get away quickly, but hopefully there would be no need of such a thing.

The girl spoke like the woman. She smelled strongly of her too, and with careful glances (glowers) Nuak thought he saw some nuanced similarities.

He did not trust her words and rumbled a low sound of warning; but she had asked for a name, and even though the boy lacked trust he held a firm understanding of hierarchy.

More accurately, the innate superiority of others.

The woman calls me Nuak. He says, wondering later if she would have beat him for an answer had he withheld it.

Nuak. Sialuk knew that name, and she followed the family tree for his relation to her. But she did not truly know how they shared blood. There were many words for "cousin" in her mother's language. She supposed the most likely was that this was a son of one of her father's brother's. Then you are Anutikatiga to me, she said. This means 'cousin' in the language spoken in many places. Sialuk smiled then, glad that he had found Moonglow.

We are family, she said. Even without blood, the members of Moonglow were family. But Sialuk held a special place for those who shared a pedigree.

The girl was strange. Just like the old woman, he thought. They spoke to him as if he was somebody to them, which was unnerving. He did not know their language or their ways. Nuak could only react in accordance to his limited understanding of the world, and so he did not trust the friendly affect of the girl. He did not enjoy the way she schemed as she spoke to him.

My family is dead. He counters coldly.

It is the truth so far as he knows it.

She could feel him grow cold, turn inward, retreat. Why, she did not know. Until he spoke the words. It rattled her, to think of her own family who had perished. Her father, her brother, her cousins, her aunts, her uncles. Dead upon the mountain. Anaa had been the only one left, and without that, Sialuk knew she would be somebody else now.

Mine, too. Save for Kukutux.

What effect would this have upon him, if any? Perhaps he was beyond healing.

The girl admitted to a shared loss, except there was one glaring difference: her mother, Kukutux. Nuak wasn't the type to sympathize with others — he had never been given the opportunity to develop such heart — and rather than find comfort in their shared hurts, Sialuk's admission only seeded deep jealousy inside of him. That he should grow up with nobody and nothing, yet someone else be afforded the love and focus of even one parent, brought to life a deep need within Nuak.

But first they left, and then they died. he countered, as if to one-up the girl. Yes, his mother was dead and likely his father too, but it wasn't the whole story. Nuak did not know the whole story, only what Merrick had shared with him as he grew in to his furs.

Lacking accomplishments to make him feel good and superior, Nuak could at least find a similar superiority by comparing his hurts to hers, and winning there. It was sad, it was childish, but he was both those things and more.

He was curious though.

How did yours die?

There was darkness in his heart. She saw that now. Darkness that might have eclipsed her own if anaa had not come out of the strange storm alive. How different would the raindrop's life be if she had been the sole survivor of Moonspear? She did not know what would have happened. Perhaps Raimos would have taken her, made her his. She would not have been able to stop him.

A strange star fell from the sky. It took my home, but we made a new one here. We made new family here, too. As Sialuk had learned since that fateful night, bonds were stronger than blood.

Nuak did not like the look on her face, so he did not look at her. His tattered ears were listening for an answer. What came was limited at best; spoken carefully by the girl, a brief explanation that did not make much sense to him.

A star fell? What did that mean. He wouldn't ask.

Lucky you. Yes; she could rebuild after having lost so much, but he had lost everything. He did not know where to start, or if it were possible.

He did not know what else to say, seething over their similarities and jealous over their differences.

Luck was not a word Sialuk felt for herself, but perhaps compared to the beast that stood before her, it was appropriate. She had anaa, and for that she was grateful. How bitter she might have been if she had lost Kukutux, too. She felt for the boy, wishing that she could somehow comfort him, but sensing that any attempt would worsen his state of mind.

I suppose so, she said. Perhaps someday, with time, his heart would warm. Right now, it felt hopeless. Words of welcome and comfort had done her no good with him, and she felt the optimism deflate from her being. In private, she would pray for him, for his heart, for his soul.

If you require anything, you may call upon me, she said, not wishing to push him further. It was then that she took her leave, an odd sense of failure nagging at her heart.

The offer brought a brightening to his eye, before the squint and scowl returned. Her charity could not be purely altruistic; the world, his world, did not work like that.

Rather than speak again he let his feelings of confusion and jealousy fester. He turned and bundled himself up while facing the shadows, only following wherever the girl went with the tremble of his ears.

He would not ask for anything. What he wanted, he would take. Nuak easily absolved himself of any guilt by fostering the anger inside of himself - knowing only what was taught to him by the beasts of Ursus.

fade?