Duskfire Glacier into the darkness of a late autumn evening.

@Rye for Siku’s 5/6 week mark <3

Though she had been largely restricted to the nursery within the Caverns for nearly two moons and had done little else but focus on rearing her son, it was hard to believe now that her postpartum phase was drawing to a close. The weeks had flown by in a chaotic but blissful blur of domestic life: waking in the dark to nurse Siku, sleeping tangled against Rye in exhaustion, cries ringing in her canid auds, Liak smiling and laughing at their baby talk, scarfing down a bite to eat between maternal responsibilities, her relationship, and her own care.

It had passed entirely too fast and Imaq was reluctant to let him go now that her boy was getting older and more independent. Of course, he was rather young yet and would still require his parents’ care for several more months but already Imaq knew the day was looming when Yuku didn’t. In another heartbeat, he would be able to communicate clearly. A blink and he’d be moving to the communal denning location, weaned and learning to hunt small game with Imaq and Rye. The cycle of two moons would soar past like the grind of sand grains beneath her paws and he would be practically a young man — able to come and go, growing into his adult body, hunting with the Glacier wolves.

It was both a sad but unavoidable truth and a valuable reminder to cherish this time with her child and mate. Even if there were moments where life was messy, stressful, or downright draining.

When Siku could count six weeks, she spoke with Rye of what she wished to do and when night came, gilded she-dog and the diminutive bearberry trotted alongside the woodland agouti to the place where lights danced on the ice.

Sikuliak was greatly distracted by the light snow that clung even in summer but once he had settled down — the appearance of the borealis ribbons wavering across the sky helping to capture the boy’s attention monumentally — Imaq bent low over their son’s shoulder.

”Imaq bring Sikuliak to tell inua his name. That he is named ‘first ice in the fall’ and ‘bright star’, son of hunters and medicine men, child of the Glacier.” Sedna would hear, even so far from the sea. The spirits would recognize Siku as one of their own and speak to him as they whispered to Angakkoq.

As night casted the sun from its seat on the horizon, the trio left the warmth of the den to seek out the sky lights and introduce their boy to spirits. Rye took his place beside his mate, watching as the lights dance across her face with unexpected, but welcome, wonderment. There was much beauty in that moment, a moment the hotah took to admire. With Imaqs first few words, Rye pulled his focus and listened quietly, his breathing deliberately softer as to not disturb his mate, even with something as naturally quiet as breathing. His heart pulsed in anticipation, to what he was not sure but the pounding of his heart was there nonetheless.
Helplessly clueless as to the minute details of her cultural heritage, Rye wondered if there was something he could be doing, sitting felt out of place, so he mimicked Imaqs pose but that did not absolve the misplaced feeling. Regardless, he stuck with it. Once Imaq finished speaking Rye rose to sit once again, his eyes hovering over their son. "Do you think they will accept him?" He abruptly asked.