Ouroboros Spine ✶ aniqduum nanaa tutaku ✶

Tulukiri had been watching the stars from her scraped bed, constructed that day within the repose, when she heard her name called.

She would arrive late to the three sisters. Disheveled, with her ear still covered in webs, her belly and legs lined with dirt or tangled with leaf-litter. Her eyes lingered on the two wolves already present; then the rabbit, then the trees themselves.

What was going on?

Callyope had blood on her face. Moonwoman also. Her warrior's instinct made her wary of all that she saw. When she passed them Callyope stopped her to anoint her own face with blood.

Tulukiri did not understand any of what she witnessed. Neither did she feel confident to speak, and settled where she thought they wanted her to, observing and judging and being resistant to the spectacle of it.

Kukutux spoke and when her words mentioned Tartok, Tulukiri's head lifted with some pride, and yet she frowned; finding the mixture of her culture with this ritual to be very unsettling. She did not drink when it was her chance, and only moved to sniff the water, and to fake a taste.

Better to wait and see what this was, first.