Name:Tsukiko
(soo-key-co)Meaning: moon child
Backstory/Personality:the moon kisses her fur, her eyes dance to the songs of the stars
the moon child listens
she hears only the song of the moon, listens only to the tides that pull her in
she hunts for the skies, she lives for the stars
she dances for the waves, she sings for the moon
she reads the waves like poems, like love letters from the skies
she is the moon's only daughter, she is the moon's only child
the ocean is their telephone and the skies are their maps
moon child is raised by sky.
she is born in the night. the stars shine on her fur, decorating her like a canvas, staining her fur in shades of sea. they whisper poems in her ears, they bask her in the light of the moon. the moon calls her the little hunter, and soon that is what she becomes.
the waves sing her a lullaby as she falls into a gentle sleep.
moon child, now a yearling, listens only to the moon. she does not do what the savants tell her, instead staring at the waves, listening to the moon's instruction. she does only what her heart, her head, and her moon tell her.
she grows in beauty and grace.
moon child is a hunter, no longer little. she separates herself from the world. She hunts alone, no one but her and her sky, her ocean, her love. she catches not for the pack, but instead for the moon. She offers her gifts to him, but he always refuses, telling her to bring her them to the pack. moon child listens.
moon child sends her love through song, through dance. she sings each night for the stars, and they sing back. the waves are gifts from the moon. they dance for her, they sing with crashes of water meeting sand. they tell her what to do. they tell her how to feel.
Tsukiko lives for the moon, and in turn, the moon lives for her.
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Tsukiko is what some would describe as distracted, perhaps even immature. She is sickly sweet, but getting to know her is like trying to open a lock. She does not give out keys easily.
She doesn't talk much. Sometimes, her voice singing to the moon is the only time anyone will hear her at all. When she does speak, her voice is soft, and careful; almost as if she is scared of herself, scared of what might come out. The words that she does say are calculated and careful. They are often ignored.
She hunts alone, finding peace in solitude. She is not exactly scared of the others, she just values what nature has to say over what her pack does. She is often found alone at the shore, staring at the moon. Sometimes she is singing, and sometimes she is silent, listening to what the moon tells her.
Extra:(art by me)