An autumn rain trickles, and now in night the newly washed sky shows all its stars. Iglux̂ treads down the lake edge, side-stepping rivers of runoff from nearby creeks. Heavy packed snow congeals around her paws as she glances forward in the vapor-breath cold to look for the man who would mate her.
There is a sharp intake when she sees him. Featureless in night. Betrayed by the way her heart takes notice of him.
“ Cen ," the name softly ghosts her lips, "what am I to you?"

[cen had at last made a choice. in time he would summon another, for a title was long overdue and the promise that such uplifting accompanied. he had collected several dewclaws, and he had laid them on the drifts before the single eye when crying-wind spoke. scarred muzzle turned over a sinewy shoulder. you are the one i want beside me. cen thought her doubts came from the fact their courtship had been too long, a fact he meant to remedy now that the saatsine was settled at their current camp. the man stood, stretched.]

cen had at last made a choice. in time he would summon another, for a title was long overdue and the promise that such uplifting accompanied.
he had collected several dewclaws, and he had laid them on the drifts before the single eye when crying-wind spoke.
scarred muzzle turned over a sinewy shoulder. you are the one i want beside me. cen thought her doubts came from the fact their courtship had been too long, a fact he meant to remedy now that the saatsine was settled at their current camp.
the man stood, stretched.

To be lanzadoii entailed blankness, and how many times had the silver failed her people in this? Once more, she thinks, in feeling Cen’s touch; in listening to his words sharp as preening teeth. Looking at him makes her shy. Her chin cuts away.
Beside me.
Even in her more stoic automations, Iglux̂ would trade her subservience for a question. She would seek her husband’s affections for security; for children. She would listen for his fire and laugh with full attention, because it would give her her own. She would chase these things always, and felt in time they would grow distance between she and him.
“I will make you a poor wife, Cen,” her voice falls with the rain.

[there was warning here, clarion. clanging. but cen was not a man who spoke in many tongues. he turned to face her, his face crossed by some inscrutability, and then a question came to stand bare. why do you say this, iglux̂? she was lanzadoii, not sharadoii, not muradoii. not a woman who craved a crown. she was his, and through a great force did cen wish to belong to her. but he was cautious, and suspicion still had its strong roots in him. his mouth was quiet. his eye asked more of the crying-wind, skimming her silver, searching beyond. he had never considered that this would be revisited, unwanted. and for this he had no preparation, and so he felt the beginning coolness of a stoicism starting its slow slide.]

there was warning here, clarion. clanging. but cen was not a man who spoke in many tongues. he turned to face her, his face crossed by some inscrutability, and then a question came to stand bare. why do you say this, iglux̂? she was lanzadoii, not sharadoii, not muradoii. not a woman who craved a crown. she was his, and through a great force did cen wish to belong to her.
but he was cautious, and suspicion still had its strong roots in him.
his mouth was quiet. his eye asked more of the crying-wind, skimming her silver, searching beyond. he had never considered that this would be revisited, unwanted. and for this he had no preparation, and so he felt the beginning coolness of a stoicism starting its slow slide.

Cen’s hard face is one of gelid separation. She should say nothing, reminded that she must be whatever he desires her to be. Even a child would know better than to tread this treasonous ice.
Distress turns her face one more. It seemed easier to speak when she could not see into the searching eye.
“Because I will become a wife who has wants. I will be a wife who wants you as mine. A wife who wants you to forfeit to keep me."
How many of her crying wind women would reach for a hearth and marriage and not seize upon these banal wants? Iglux̂ sidesteps then, black eyes fastening.
"Look at me, in honesty, and tell me you would not come to resent me for it. That I would not become your enemy.”

[cen could have feigned discordant ignorance had not iglux̂ spoken of wanting to keep him as her own. cold heat dropped into his belly, for in shreds of guilt he felt a violently torrential wrench of shock. i look at you, crying wind, and it was so, slate-blue reaching behind the obsidian waters of eyes which had never truly seen. it was not her fault, it was how he had restarted himself, courtship and marriage without end, holding himself apart until he was not sure he wished to be perceived at all. and yet, in spite of this, iglux̂ saw and held cen in her shadowlight sights. will you humiliate me before a village? will you seek men who are not saatsine behind my back? will you give me into the teeth of those who will pluck out my other eye? will you kill my children? break their bones, keep them from me? will you run to my enemies with milk streaming from your breasts, iglux̂? cen heaped upon crying-wind those sins of past wives, turning impasse into atonement for that price she had never exacted. i would hate you for those things. i would resent you for those things. the scars twitched. have i not forfeited enough? stubborn, but not silent; if you are a wife that wants, i will be a husband who wants more. her match. her equal. we will meet the demand of one another. cen said nothing else. she had not seen him punish past wrongs with blows hard enough to break, to maim. she must never accuse him of less than loyalty again, despite! despite! despite!]

cen could have feigned discordant ignorance had not iglux̂ spoken of wanting to keep him as her own. cold heat dropped into his belly, for in shreds of guilt he felt a violently torrential wrench of shock.
i look at you, crying wind, and it was so, slate-blue reaching behind the obsidian waters of eyes which had never truly seen. it was not her fault, it was how he had restarted himself, courtship and marriage without end, holding himself apart until he was not sure he wished to be perceived at all.
and yet, in spite of this, iglux̂ saw and held cen in her shadowlight sights.
will you humiliate me before a village? will you seek men who are not saatsine behind my back? will you give me into the teeth of those who will pluck out my other eye? will you kill my children? break their bones, keep them from me? will you run to my enemies with milk streaming from your breasts, iglux̂?
cen heaped upon crying-wind those sins of past wives, turning impasse into atonement for that price she had never exacted.
i would hate you for those things. i would resent you for those things.
the scars twitched. have i not forfeited enough? stubborn, but not silent; if you are a wife that wants, i will be a husband who wants more.
her match. her equal. we will meet the demand of one another.
cen said nothing else. she had not seen him punish past wrongs with blows hard enough to break, to maim. she must never accuse him of less than loyalty again, despite! despite! despite!

She flinches for the strike that would surely follow.
And would it be so wrong?
Her dignity was not meant to outweigh the will of a chieftain; of a husband! She proffers her body, low in shaken submission where starlight catches on a drizzled crown.
How long has she waited for the cousin river man to speak himself plain?
And how long has she been made to answer for the faults of his past women?
This dispensation had been in effect for some time, and all of Cen’s hulking smoke proves what could be dealt against her in his measured silence!
It is Caan she imagines then, the boy’s leg torn at the behest of a self-serving mother, and her eyes start to burn. She turns their ebon intensity on him.
“See me, then! See me as Iglux̂, and not your past shame!”

[yes. yes. cen tried it; he tried to stare past the womanliness of crying-wind's face into what she could be. what she wished to be. cen glimpsed it, though he did not allow himself to trust. pain at last leapt to limn the lines of his mouth; he let out a fierce breath and the eye cut away. to look beyond iglux̂ was to see his own shame; the tormented face of the sharadoii, the hurt in the crownwolf's face to know herself not named beside him, the almost-there disdain carried for him always by muradoii, who had not seen him as her own in the end. cen, reaching for the love gheli had give; cen, torturing four wives because they were unable to match what he had felt for a dead woman. he had even run off his own son, the last vestige of hope in a past life. to look beyond iglux̂ was to see his own sin. he realized now it was why he had not seen her. i see. and i see i do not deserve. the words were out, and the anger rose hot inside cen for her, searching out blame to place even as he felt a rush of relief to say it. he had not deserved gheli either. it was the last true time his heart had felt. he did not deserve iglux̂. but he felt entitled to her body, her heart, her mind. she offered it, and he had closed a cold wall around to hide the fact he did not meet the man she wished him to be. but, for her, he wanted it. he wished it. he had always searched for more, beyond the lanzadoii. he did not understand until crying wind that it could be found here in the now. no more words. cen waited. he always waited.]

yes.
yes.
cen tried it; he tried to stare past the womanliness of crying-wind's face into what she could be. what she wished to be. cen glimpsed it, though he did not allow himself to trust.
pain at last leapt to limn the lines of his mouth; he let out a fierce breath and the eye cut away.
to look beyond iglux̂ was to see his own shame; the tormented face of the sharadoii, the hurt in the crownwolf's face to know herself not named beside him, the almost-there disdain carried for him always by muradoii, who had not seen him as her own in the end.
cen, reaching for the love gheli had give; cen, torturing four wives because they were unable to match what he had felt for a dead woman.
he had even run off his own son, the last vestige of hope in a past life.
to look beyond iglux̂ was to see his own sin.
he realized now it was why he had not seen her.
i see. and i see i do not deserve.
the words were out, and the anger rose hot inside cen for her, searching out blame to place even as he felt a rush of relief to say it.
he had not deserved gheli either. it was the last true time his heart had felt.
he did not deserve iglux̂. but he felt entitled to her body, her heart, her mind. she offered it, and he had closed a cold wall around to hide the fact he did not meet the man she wished him to be.
but, for her, he wanted it. he wished it. he had always searched for more, beyond the lanzadoii. he did not understand until crying wind that it could be found here in the now.
no more words. cen waited. he always waited.

This is a confession she has no right to have— that lies in a deep, private place where Cen’s teeth are drawn, his spirit spent. She flinches against it, and paradoxically feels its sting replicated where nescience had become an invitation to longing; to the secret expressions of her most inchoate and primal desires.
“How can you believe so little of yourself?” The pale neck arcs, face bowing to search his aching eye like starlit glass, for this went against all great worthiness Iglux̂ saw in him. But she preferred this still; heat. Anger. Rather painful truths than kind lies.
She understands then that their first night had been merely a passionate illusion. She’d allowed an appetite for him to speak for their spirits. Ice raven had not sung for them. There was nothing divinely fated in their entwining.
But it was not sane, or even realistic to try to live as though she should never dream.
The heart did not follow any rationale; it bled where it bled.
Her’s bled for Cen.
The glimmer in his star stills. Now she must know— now, that his heart spoke beyond that thickening veil of ice.
“Will you hurt me, Cen?”

[old; the familiar surging of anger in cen which commanded that he subdue iglux̂ before she laid bare the truths of him unwilling to be exposed. he held fast. no. she was lanzadoii; he could not raise his hurt to her. she was woman, and he had learned this lesson also. more than that, the shimmer of guilt which sparked low in cen made of the crying-wind an idol. she submitted. she questioned. but unlike sharadoii, cen did not think iglux̂ might rise to his blows. i chose wrong too often. let me show you what choosing correct might be. dizzily, he thought for her that he might even surrender the darktoothed desire clapped to gummy boards inside the splintering wall of his untrustworthy chest. he would not seek to harm. he would not seek to mold. it was a monumental step for a man used to having all his way, and yet this was not the moment in which to falter. tongue grazed mouth. his breath snuck to warm her flesh, her fur. cen lapped rain from fur and soft snow from pelt. he would not admit to the fear and yet it resounded all the same.]

old; the familiar surging of anger in cen which commanded that he subdue iglux̂ before she laid bare the truths of him unwilling to be exposed.
he held fast. no. she was lanzadoii; he could not raise his hurt to her. she was woman, and he had learned this lesson also. more than that, the shimmer of guilt which sparked low in cen made of the crying-wind an idol.
she submitted. she questioned.
but unlike sharadoii, cen did not think iglux̂ might rise to his blows.
i chose wrong too often. let me show you what choosing correct might be.
dizzily, he thought for her that he might even surrender the darktoothed desire clapped to gummy boards inside the splintering wall of his untrustworthy chest.
he would not seek to harm. he would not seek to mold. it was a monumental step for a man used to having all his way, and yet this was not the moment in which to falter.
tongue grazed mouth. his breath snuck to warm her flesh, her fur.
cen lapped rain from fur and soft snow from pelt.
he would not admit to the fear and yet it resounded all the same.