Ouroboros Spine the same [voice] that oft-times hath

@Kukutux or @Sialuk

tremulous breath stutters betwixt his lips as the ache in lómëvása's legs almost brings him down to his belly. a deep breath that was far from deep enough draws warm air into his lungs, acrid with the distant cloy of smoke. a glimpse skyward and lómëvása can see it where it sits heavy on the skyline; not daring to dip beneath the 'rounding mountains that cradles the spine. unable and unwilling to keep up the running, lómëvása allows himself to slow.

first to a brisk walk and then to a slowed pace that eludes to the true exhaustion he feels.

a glimpse over his shoulder assures him that none are following as he braves closer to the borders of the claim. he takes another deep breath, this one filling his lungs a bit more and he pauses only to smooth down some of his fur ( where he could reach at any rate ) and make himself look a bit more presentable ...

before he tips his head back and lets out a short sonorous howl to draw attention to his presence.

she is the first to hear the call of a stranger upon their borders. originally, she hopes it is the taggerung who has come for a visit upon their last conversation. however, the voice is different when it calls for an audience, it is not jarring like the coy man. with interest, she heads towards the scene. with raised concern due to the situation with nuak, shikoba leaps at the chance to ensure safety of the spine and all of its inhabitants. 

so, she leaves her ulaq and heads towards the edge of the territory. she approaches with a slight air of dominance -- a tail that begins a slow rise up, coarse hackles edging up, her chin held high -- all to see a boy made of cream and soil at the edge of moonglow. he is slightly bigger than her, though his build is lighter than her own muscled frame. sulfur eyes examine him thoroughly as coal black lips part to speak.

"who you?" she asks, voice rough around the edges, yet her tone is soft with the boy. she can keep him busy until the duck or her spawn come to intervene.

the morilindë's attention is drawn to the woman who approaches from within the claim to greet — or intercept — him, noting that she is flamekissed; a mottled agouti of driftwood, sand, and flame. gaze is drawn, briefly but flits away just as quickly, to the scars upon her visage.

though lómëvása was fortunate enough that his fur regrew over the severed flesh and bone ...he knows that disfigurements — scars or otherwise — draws the eye. as if on par with his thoughts, his doelike tail gives a small twitch absent the elegance that the gesture should've carried.

humiliation and shame burns within him his chest; an eternal wildfire.

who you? the question sounds a bit clipped to him, but as common wasn't his birth tongue, he doesn't take any sort of offense to it.

i am called ze sun at dusk — if they were going for the literal translation. ❝lómëvása❞ he offers, then; in the consideration that the not-common translation of his name might be less of a mouthful. i am lómëvása.

when asked about his name, the boy gives her a definition, and soon the title after. the sun at dusk. she thinks about it for a moment. the sun at dusk is something she treasures -- the colors, the serenity, the end of a long day -- hopefully, the boy could live up to his name of greatness and peace. perhaps kukutux would see something else in him, but for now, shikoba decides that she better cover the basic conversation when seeing strangers at the border. 

she nods to him, acknowledging that she hears his name. "why come here? this is moonglow." she turns her head to gesture towards the spine of the mountains behind that surrounds the crystal water below. perhaps he searches for a home, perhaps he is running away from something. either way, shikoba would ask later, should the boy be allowed to cross the lines. however, the duck and her spawn are the only ones who may make the choice.

"what does [size=small]lómëvása offer to us?" a big question that requires a smart answer. shikoba hopes he is well-versed. [/size]

to lómëvása, she comes across as a stern creature — unyielding and demanding of answers that fill his tongue but not at the speed he imagines she would like. the translation in his head is seamless but he considers the word moonglow and the irony in which stamps hard upon his heart.

of course! he thinks as if it was an expected thing ...and it makes sense to him, that he would habitually and unknowingly gravitate towards a star kingdom; or at least a kingdom named like one.

as for the why; it is simple and not-so-simple. a home. a safe place. he does not believe that the hunters of the fading fire of autumn would follow him here ...but he's been taught not to take risky chances like that — even if this was plenty risky in and of itself.

i am looking for a home. he responds, figuring that simple was better; though another hard question is placed before him. i can patrol and gather and hunt. but of course these were all things wolves could do; even so it would be a contribution. and i can map ze stars.

the call had not gone unnoticed by the duck.

she pulled a white pelt over her shoulders, chilled despite the great heat. inside her, the sun too seemed to burn. but it did not sicken kukutux, for once. with gratitude she made her way slowly to the call, arriving beside shikoba belatedly. 

the other spoke in a heavy accent of mapping the stars. "you know the path of the sky?" she blurted in a most informal way, though ears tilted in apology thereafter. 

the other was a man meant more for running than the clash of wolves, stone and earth melding together upon him. his gaze was respectful, and kukutux was again suffused with thanks for shikoba's intent and watchful presence over moonglow. she did not speak again, wishing the stranger to answer.

his answers seemingly please the noble woman as she nods her head, though when the leader of the village comes to join her, shikoba lowers her stance. she brushes a nose against the moon woman's shoulder assuringly and decides to let the duck handle the rest. shikoba intends to support whatever choice this duck makes for the boy on their borders. though she must admit, she takes a liking to this one and may put him to the test for his stated skills.

mapping the stars caught kukutux's attention. shikoba originally does not think much of it, though it reminds her of the raven girl she once met. though the native does not know lunaria is here, she does know that the girl is knowledgeable and friendly. hopefully together, they may be able to knit together a meaning for the large endless sky above them. but until he is given entrance, she stands quietly and waits for the leader's final decision patiently.

the fire-kissed woman falls quiet in clear difference to the pale sylph that makes her way towards the pair, then. she is like a sugary moonbeam given mortal form, marred with scars not unlike the grey marks upon what would otherwise be the moon's smooth surface. lómëvása diverts his gaze, knowing well enough that, that at the very least was a widely known symbol of submission when in the presence of a leader.

the nightingale's breath stutters for a moment; words steeling away in the cage of his throat as he tries to decipher whether her question is skeptical or not. though mapping the stars and reading fortunes from them was far from scoffed at in the kingdom of the stars ...other packs might think quite so much of it.

zat is correct, lómëvása admits the words almost like a benign sigh. zey are not always so clear but i am versed well enough at deciphering zere meaning. for though he does not wish to sell himself short he also does not wish to boast of a mastery he does not enkindle. in the quiet that follows his response, carpathian grey eyes glance between the women then; hesitant and trying to still the soft flutter of his heart nervousness.

kukutux nodded slowly, listening to each thing said. there was no small part of her that wished to ask from where the star-talker had come, but there was time enough for it another day.

the weakness was rising in her limbs as if it were a bruised cloud; she sighed, though her countenance remained warm. "i will bring you into this village. i would like to learn the things that you know. maybe in trade."

so eager to name him, and yet she did not know his name. in her mind, the duck gave to the man a position in her ranks all the same. "what is the sound they call you?" she asked, and when he had answered, went on. "i am kukutux. this woman has the name of shikoba."

it seems a decision is reached when kukutux invites the boy to come back into moonglow to join the rest of the village that resides. shikoba feels quite pleased, so far, she feels no reason to not accept lómëvása into the circle. she remains quiet, though she dips her head towards him once her name is introduced to the newest member. a seemingly hardened expression turns soft and welcoming. she has much to learn about him and the stars, but hopefully with him and lunaria present, there would be much progress made of learning how to look at the sky and not just see scatters of light.

last from me!

to the nightingale's surprise — and pleasure — he is accepted in their circle; welcomed into those who call themselves moonglow. the request of his name does not come as any sort of surprise and though he holds onto the belief that giving it so freely might bite him in the butt — though he reasons that nothing could be worse than what he endured beneath the tyrannical rule of the leader of fire-fading august — he seeks to loosen the fear that grips at his vocal chords like a pale, phantom clamp of jaws.

i am called ze sun at dusk — a small smile is given, left to simper across his lips; dusted with soft lilt that could be considered almost rueful. ❝lómëvása❞ he offers once more assuming naturally that the shortened translation in his native tongue was favorable to the longwinded name in common.

last for me! <3

"i once had the knowing of a woman who spoke with words that are like your name."

the elf-queen who had traded her to moonspear, a boon, a beckoning, payment for something not done before the eyes of kukutux.

and yet the comfort of the familiar sound wended its way around the duck, and made the welcoming of lómëvása to moonglow a most rapturous thing indeed.

they spoke of stars.