it was upon a green afternoon misted with rain that the next children of the distant island were born.

the night had come, and with it a horrid rippling of cramps that startled kukutux awake from her semi-sleep with a sharp sob. unable to speak, she only gasped, and then in the next moment had begged jarilo to let her alone. she had observed all taboos but one, and now the duck must face the righteous anger of the spirits she had scorned. agiisal, the moondrop had grit. the meaning would be clear; even if the word was unknown, the feral desperation of her bearing would say all that must be told.

alone, she had laid back against the furs to catch her breath, staring at the earthen dome above her. ada, kukutux thought in her distress. this was a time of women; her sister should be here. her aunt, her grandmother. the cousins that had already given life to their clan. ada, panyukasaal. hot tears flowed backward along her cheeks as the agony came again; kukutux closed her throat and refused to cry out a second time.

through the night she fought the lurking qualupilik, that green-tongued creeping thing which comes from the sea to take a woman's child. while at first the snowflower had determined to make no sound that would invite the monster, soon her mewling gave way to louder cries that cut through the gathering storm outside the den. speak not their names, the spirit whispered, and kukutux nodded her sweat-drenched head. the shuffle of an old woman within the den. tooteega come to take up her place in support of her earth-bound daughter. and so kukutux called upon their old names, and nanook arrived. they stood near, and she took up the old way of breathing in childbed.

she fell silent for a short while before dawn, alone with her panting, but first light had not come when the ordeal began again. yet the sun was muted behind the thickness of grey clouds that blotted out warm rays. surely the beast was clear now, for with it came rain to beat against the vast forests and shards of old stone borne these long years by moonspear.

inside the ulaq, kukutux returned to the ancient struggle, and this time her throat could not hold the hot fire twisting her body. a shriek knifed like a chert edge into the morning sun, something altogether primitive and savage and quite unlike the meek young wife who had come to live among the ostregas. she dug her claws into the pelts beneath and drew one ragged breath before she bore down. the forest rippled with a rake of thunder and @Sialuk was forced into the world on the edge of a low, guttural moan that ripped from somewhere beyond kukutux' consciousness.

the drumbeat of her heart slowed as she found her breathing again, and lifted a shaking leg to reveal the pale child. a triumphant cry came from the girl as she pulled the babe closer, laving tongue to remove the fluids of birth from tiny mouth and throat; kukutux felt warmth upon her face, tasted salt, winced at the sudden pull at her side as the child was given first taste of immuk.

her jaw had only untensed when the tremoring pain began again, sundering the dove into an anguish. she grasped the breathing anew, steadying herself upon the long sigh and then two short, letting the voice of the spirit work itself through her mouth where needed. outside, the rains had slowed, and moonspear gleamed like a wet gem beneath the shifting clouds. and kukutux was gone to shards of ice, writhing as her bones began to separate and a new part of her was remade.

kukutux' brow furrowed; her features tensed and broke into a fatigued gasp. tooteega loomed close, her greying jaws bared against the slithering tongue of the qualupilik. the girl refused surrender; in another rush @Saviguk was cast into the ash-soaked world of the wild mountain, and his mother wept to see him, his finely made paws, the blunted, seeking muzzle. a son for @Jarilo. a daughter for her. she kissed the pale child again, nestled the darkened one close, drew in her sobs. no further agonies arose; the tension washed away as the forest dripped with rain and kukutux fell to trembling inspection of the two newborn lives her she had given her husband.

her tired gaze closed, but there was still work to be done. kukutux recalled how the sisters had gathered around their birthing counterpart — in that moment every young woman was the sister of the new mother — and how the old midwife had compelled the woman to cough.

a deep, forced rattle, one that clenched the sore muscles of her belly and separated from her body the crimson tree that had nourished her children. algaak, the birthprice for tooteega's attendance.

she trembled still from moment to moment, but at length her soft green gaze lifted to the rain-dripping entrance of the ulaq. her voice was hoarse, throat scoured by the force of her earlier wails; kuktutux pitched it now into a low croon that bid her husband closer. she was not wrong to wish him now; he had heeded her command, and now she longed for the silent guardianship of his bearing.

no harm would come to her or the little ones while jarilo was near at hand.exhausted, kuktutux lay down her slim muzzle to await his arrival, brushing both sialuk and saviguk with a warm sigh.