Ouroboros Spine Behind every tree is a cutting machine

Roughly set the 19th, but I'm not too sticky with timelines.

Weight, tiredness, and injury slowed his tread as he sauntered his way back to Moonglow, having spent two nights on the mountain, and another between the mountain and the Spine where he took time to clean and refresh himself. The star that had fallen had not been found- though he felt he knew that it likely rested within the impact crater on the face of the mountain. From what he could see, there was no way to access it by paw; so it would rest there, undisturbed; a fitting place for such a thing to gather dust and become forgotten, having caused so much devastation to the mountain and all those who had once called it home. It burned no longer, at least- Adrastus had wondered if the star might still emit light but if it had, it had either lost its spark or was perhaps buried out of sight. 

And in searching for that, he realized he'd lost track of what it was that he wanted. He had spent two nights meditating under the stars, and had awakened in the morning to find a sign that the decision he had made was the right one. He pursued, he battled, and he won. Now, having spent a few hours just outside the pack's borders cleaning his wounds and cleaning the pelt of the creature he had subdued, he heaved it over his shoulders once more so that its thick, furred limbs draped down over his own, its head lolling softly against the side of his neck, and he made his way directly to Kukutux's ulaq.

He could smell Raimo, but the scent made him do little more than blink as he stepped past the male's fresh tracks and toward Kukutux's den. Still bearing the weight of his prize across his shoulders, he chuffed slightly, as was his way- announcing his return, and requesting an audience with @Kukutux if she was within earshot. Perhaps she was in her den, or perhaps not far away. But he would wait for her, there, proudly bearing the body of the slain tom lynx across his shoulders.

she was close; kukutux was sikukiak among the nearby trees. she was not sure that she would return to the ulaq. raimo's scent clung to her; it curled beneath her ruff and scorched her lungs, the wood-ash and fire of him. how he had scorched her! how she had allowed him to do it, had gone wantingly, and even now, even now — what was this that chained her down so fiercely;

a mess of fur that stood halfway along her shoulders in trembling spires of snow; she let out her breath and swore dourly beneath it.

why must i be alone? why did you take him, sedna?

it was the closest she had come in many weeks to saying his name; the duck had moved in belief that her agonies would be singed away when the nine days had passed. but it had not been so, she had not tasted a moment's peace until the night that raimo had taken her into his embrace. bitter memories now. his wrath kindled against her words, and her own against him.

how could she let him go also? but if he continued as sivullik, it was not right for moonglow.

and there was no one to ask. she was mother here. she was the one who must give guidance.

the sound of snow clasping hands around the edge of a stone-spire; adrastus had returned. kukutux bit the inside of her jaw, waiting, waiting; at last with a clear reluctance the duck drew her feathers from the woodland and limped until all of him filled her eyes.

gaze falling first to his wounds. her expression brushed itself with a glimmer of sympathy, that he should be so hurt. even now the healer suspected some might become scars — and then her attention rested now upon what the snowhunter carried.

niutuiyik —

adrastus had no mark of sleep upon him; he was hard-travelled and smeared in the musky scent of the beast. kukutux was mesmerized by its glassward eyes, but bent her head at once in a sudden and remembered reverence for its spirit. "this was the test you were given," breath ragged, for once more her totem had showed itself and in this, surely, was the sign of the spine-circle's favour.

She spared little than a moment to look at him- so soon was her gaze stolen away by the limp, proud creature he carried across his shoulders. With a movement careful and slow, he crouched and leaned to the side, allowing the lynx to slide down his shoulder and to the ground. With movements that might reflect the respect he had for the creature's sacrifice, he nosed the lynx onto its side so that it might look as though it had simply lain down for a nap. He knew that keeping the pelt in good condition was important- but also that the body should be treated with respect, as it had once been a vessel for a living creature. 

She said something that he hadn't expected to hear, but when he raised his gaze to her again, there was something nearly impossible to read in her features. She had not mentioned lynxes when she had answered his question about which species were not to be touched. It had been the creature he had wanted to seek out (though he would have settled for a bobcat had one crossed his path first) and bring to her to be processed. Something about her spirit seemed to have been excited by seeing the creature he had slain. He stood aside, allowing her to investigate it, and feel the softness of it fur if she wished. 

"It came to me." He said softly. The lynx had visited his sleeping spot, and had left behind a fresh set of tracks that he'd been able to follow, in order to catch it. "I accepted its sacrifice, gratefully." He said. "It is what I sought, when I asked which species were not to be touched. If this was my test," He said, "This is my result. I have come down from the mountain to be Sivullik."

"it gave itself to you," kukutux whispered, though in the moment she could find no translation for the ears of adrastus. the snowhunter handled lynx with care, and the duck felt breath hitch in her throat. she bent reverently over the thick-woven fur of the one who had always called to her, bent her forehead with a prayer of thanks that the sacred one had surrendered its spirit to sivullik.

for she saw now that this was the way firsthunter must become so in moonglow. the communion of land with heart. her mind turned toward him; her flesh ached; she begged lynx silently to lend strength as she straightened, clumsily staggering on three paws. the alabaster ears splayed slowly in a delicate arc, and she at last looked toward the returned man. "i will — i have medicine for your wounds," mind forcing first but the roof of her mouth resisting it.

it was a struggle that was not rooted in aversion; kukutux saw what adrastus had done and felt a zeal clutch in her belly. something threaded with a pious gold, for in her honour of him, the spirits would be pleased. lynx, the fragrance of pine and of stone and of the masculine cut of him, threaded through it all; upon her own pelt the resplendent conifer scent and raimo, clinging to throat and flanks. kukutux looked back upon the gently laid body of the hunting thing, swallowed gently. "lynx is the one who has always walked within my dreams. she guides my step. and she has given you her gift."

Her voice sounded like the wind, and the way it shook the leaves of the quaking aspen. He couldn't make out what she said, but he was struck with the impression that he had indeed done some reverent thing. She mentioned medicines and he nodded softly. He had tended to his wounds but only in the way that a soldier knew- get them clean and keep them clean. He did not know poultices or medicines, but had been taught to be content healing as nature intended when there were no skilled medics available. But she didn't move to retrieve anything, or draw closer to inspect his wounds. She remained as she was.

The lynx, it seemed, was of special value to her, which made something sink in his chest. The time he had spent on the mountain had allowed him to consider her, and he had come to a realization that perhaps she might not have expected. Now, though, he was given the feeling that his thoughts might not come as such a blow to her. 

For while she claimed to be in awe of the creature that was bound to her soul, she had not smiled to see it. She had not shown relief or joy when she saw him return. And while she did indeed eye the prize he had caught with reverent adoration, none of those emotions were present in her face when she addressed him. He didn't feel as though she saw him at all; and that was all he'd needed to see. 

"I have proven myself fit to be Sivullik, yes?" He asked. "And yet you seem...This isn't the right word, but it feels close enough. Disappointed." He said softly. He felt certain that while she wanted to see someone bring her this as a sign that they were chosen to be Sivullik, he got the distinct impression that there was someone else who she wished had done the task. And he couldn't fight with that. He took a step closer to her, wishing he could reach out and brush her cheek with his muzzle- and yet he did not. If she wanted to come to him for reassurance, she could- though he didn't expect her to. "Despite the fact that the mountain and this lynx have chosen me, you have not; you have already given yourself to another." He said. "Can we exist in a world, where we can both have what we want?" He asked her, then. He wanted to be Sivalluk. She, he thought, wanted Raimo. Could there be balance, still, if the Sivullik remained single, while his wisewoman danced with another?

her eyes widened. "no. no. it is not disappointment," she assured him, though the sound of it might have been lightly lost beneath the rest of what the snowhunter spoke. she turned helplessly away from him, seeking the evasive ends of words that skipped like stray caribou away from her grasp. 

"you are sivullik," kukutux said with more steadiness that before, recognizing him and the great thing that he had done. "it is only that i had not expected that you would want —" me "— the role of first. i," voice trailing away; she hated to struggle so, and beneath his eyes, and beneath the truth of his words. that chafed her, that adrastus should see so transparently what she meant to hide.

so do not hide this, sister.

"i had a vision for what moonglow must be. i meant to bring you and lótë together," kukutux admitted, though as she gathered the words so she weakened, and so, eventually she came closer to the hunter, warmed the tips of his chestfur with her breath as slender muzzle moved to lip away the largest dried drop of blood. "this path is not closed to you as sivullik." folded here beneath the palestone pillars of his forelegs, the duck caught her breath and was silent, working with the practiced nature that had been trained into her.

"i put my thought of what this land should be above what i could not decide." something not unlike peace here, and she shut her eyes, breathing with head bowed, the nape of her neck unguarded to the jaws of the one who had brought lynx to her. "you bring me a sacred offering. the spirits have chosen the hunter who will be the one to lead them all."

moving to another wound, bathing coppertaste and burgundy, not daring yet to look at him, lest he see the way that his word, his knowledge, his sacrifice had finally unlocked some quiet place that dared to desire a second time. "the only thing that causes me to stop is that i am only now learning this new path. the change that i accept."

something half-formed in her mind; at long last kukutux brought her gaze toward adrastus, tipping the line of her jaw sideways in a semi-cant. "yes. this world you say has breath. we say ikupiak. we say 'this is what it means to be given an equal share of something we both desire." raimo must learn to be second. adrastus must learn to accept.  "now i will tell you two things, sivullik." she set her cheek wonderingly against the roundness of his shoulder, if he had not already sought to break away from her healing and the words set against them as if they were a row of sharp flint teeth.

"the first is a thing that can only be decided by a woman. i am widow and moon. i may ask any to share my ulaq. that is the right of one who has lost her mate. the hunters bring to her meat. she chooses among them." greenstone eyes gleaming in the gentle tones of morning as she searched behind his eyes again, stare drifting to the proud tilt of his ears, the set of his mouth. yes, the earth had chosen wisely for moonglow, and set its choice into the fine and beautiful form of adrastus.

"yet you are not only a hunter. you are first among them. and so the second is a choice only men may make, and that is to become brothers. to put aside their struggling, to work as one. we are all bound by kinship ties in moonglow. and those who say brother between them might also be part of ikupiak."

but that is not your decision to make.

"but that must be your choice. you will decide if you will seek this in him, or if you will ask for the full honor of sivullik. this is your first right." alabastrine ears falling back; kukutux swallowed softly but kept the gaze that wished to fall away — she held such as it was. "only firsthunter dances with me when the earth has prepared me again. this is a true thing no matter what you choose for now, adrastus, and i will honour this also when the time has come."

What he'd said had potentially offended her- or it had taken her by surprise, he thought. She seemed to fret momentarily and he wished he could reach out, and tell her simply to be calm. That he was not here to put pressure on her, or push her. She had admitted to him that she was still just learning, and Adrastus, too, was trying to learn her ways. He wondered if there was a slight language barrier, as she clearly spoke another language as well- though it was a mark of her education, intelligent and diligence to hear her speak the common tongue so fluidly, and yet recall, also, the words of her other tongue. 

His features lightened when she spoke of the vision she had had for Moonglow. He felt honoured that she would tell him of this- and was flattered to hear his name spoken. It caused him to have a funny feeling in his chest, when she said the name Lótë, as he thought often for the painter and hunter. She possessed a kind grace that shone through, especially when she took the time to welcome his presence or tolerate his questions about her art, and paint-making. He had indeed taken an interest in her and now, he wondered- perhaps if he had shown a bit of that to Kukutux on the first day the two had a chance to speak to one another. 

What surprised him, then, was that she seemed to indicate that he could be both Sivullik and mate to Lótë. Had her vision occurred to her while he had been on the mountain? This was all quite surprising but at the same time, it was hat he too had considered, though he wouldn't have called it a vision. 

But it would seem that things were perhaps more complicated than what he had imagined, or what he had thought might be best for the pack and for himself. He'd found a way, he thought, to bring peace amongst the men. If he was deemed fit to be Sivalluk, perhaps Raimo wouldn't mind his demotion, particularly, if he was paired still with Kukutux. From what he understood, this might still mean that any children Adrastus sired would be sivullik as well, but he wasn't sure. Not when she drew close to him, adressed him as sivullik, and caused him to bend toward her with her touch. 

He finally received an answer from her, which restored his faith in her as wisewoman. While it had not been considered proper for a wolf to take another into their hearth, and to share their body outside of marriage where Adrastus had come from, it appeared as though Kukutux, by way of being the wisewoman, could choose as she pleased. With her muzzle hovering only so far away from him, he felt a warmth flare in his belly, but he begged it to remain at bay. It was all too tempting to go back on the things he had felt, and simply take everything she offered to him. 

"I have a few questions, that I would like clarification on. They deal with the present, and the future," He said. Surely, she would know the way. He pulled back enough so that he might speak without being tempter by the warmth of her closeness. They spoke now, he thought, as wolves who shared the pack's welfare as their common interest. What she sought to build and grow was something he would guard and nurture as well, but if he was to promise to do this, he would need to understand the pack's ways better. 

"And in the time that passes before you are ready to conceive, you would invite any to your den, as you please. This...Is hard for me to understand as it was not considered...Proper, where I am from. But I have promised to learn your ways," He said. "Perhaps...This explains some of how I felt, when you confessed you had shared your bed with Raimo." After all, it had served, so easily, to cause him to think Kukutux had lowered her own potential value. "But this would end, when your time comes to bear children; then, you would choose me, as is my first right as Sivalluk?" He asked. From what she had stated before, it sounded as though she felt free to dance with whoever she chose- but that he would have the right to sire children by her, above all others she might have dallied with before. 

"But I must also ask...If I sire children by you, this does not mean we are married, correct? And that I might still seek a wife for myself, despite having fathered your children?" He asked. "I...Am just curious to know. If I, as sivullik, could both begin courting and readying my ulaq for a wife, but also be the father of your children." He didn't mind if Raimo had Kukutux if she chose him to suit her needs in the meantime; but he still thought the man was not fit to be a leader, or a father to Kukutux' children. He didn't yearn to father them either- but if it meant keeping Raimo from fathering them, then he would do what he had to.

adrastus drew away, and kukutux, no longer consumed by the riotous experience of him so close, refocused her mind upon his seeking questions. here and there a nod, until he had come to the end of his speaking. for a short while thereafter, she was velveteen and still, choosing her answer with the usual care — but more than that, kukutux had never spoken at such length about the ways of her people. and here sivullik rested before her, attentive and watchful over the things that she spoke.

 she did not tell him that the lynx-skin was all she would have asked for a bride-price; she had whispered to her mother that she wished blue shells before, and she had told her father, and he had relayed this to the ear of the seal-hunter. and it came to pass that when the young man came to take his new wife from the ulaq of her birth, seven beautiful robinshue shell whorls were given among the fine pelts and the dried meat.

"all you have said is true, adrastus," kukutux answered wanly. "when it is my time i will lie only with you. when it is not this time, i will call to my right and choose who i wish. but this is not a marriage. you may have a wife and be sivullik also. it is only not likely that your wife would have the desire to share your name with children not of her body," the moonbow said softly. but the cloudberry painter was gentle, quick to understand her role within their village. she had the respect of kukutux and approval of sialuk. there was a little chance, then, that she would see this as the blessing it was to those who followed the moon and the star.

"if you have wife who bears young to you, and i also bring sons and daughters of your name into this world, it is mine who will follow you as firsthunter, if the land chooses them also. so you see," voice soft, meandering, museful, "you must trade for what it is you wish as sivullik."

"to be first means only that you lead the hunters. and in the name of hunter, i mean man. any wolf may hunt," and kukutux gestured to the hunting-mark she had received from the boartusk, high and plain upon her shoulder in scarred lines, "but only men come together as hunters, and speak of things that women may not know." but how was the snow-tooth to know these things? it was to kukutux that he had come for teaching.

"when a woman with no husband leads, when it comes to the warm moons and her time comes to her, she chooses the first among hunters. this is his right; he has earned the place. he will also be given this honor. but if he does not wish this, if he has a wife and she chooses 'no,' and he wishes to respect their bond, he will not take this gift. sivullik hunts. he leads. his name is called for these things. he may say yes or he may say no. he does not lose his title if the hunters still give him respect."

a selfish, jagged part of kukutux hoped that adrastus might see the wisdom of putting wife above the call of the moon; another desirous, wondering part wanted the snowhunter to bend beneath her newfound effect.

He was pleased to see that the assumptions he had made were not wild, and that he was beginning to be able to not only learn the ways Kukutux would have him learn, but come to the correct conclusions about things he did not know. It made him feel good to know that he was fitting in, and that he was doing what he had promised to do- and that was to learn her ways so that he might follow them and live a good life in Moonglow. From what he could interpret, Kukutux was free to lay with anyone she chose, until she came into heat. That might also include him, though he doubted it- she'd already confessed that she had imagined him pairing up with Lótë. He tucked that thought away in the back of his mind for now, but the fact that she'd suggested the painter in particular intrigued him. 

But when she was receptive, she would choose him, above all others, as sivullik to father her children. It was all fairly clear, though he still had some concerns, which he wished to have explained. He did not at all want to question why these laws existed- he simply wanted to know them, so that he could follow them. "And if I have a wife, or have asked for a wife, and....Politely refuse to father your children for the sake of the happiness of my family," He suggested. "Would my children still follow me as sivullik, or would yours, should you choose another to father your children?" He asked. It seemed a heirarchy was decided, amongst pups, by their birthright- and by who their parents were. But with one set of pups being born to the sivullik and a separate set being born to the wisewoman, he wondered how their lives might be then effected or ranked. 

"If your firsthunter would not have children with you, for the sake of his family...Would you then heed his word on who to choose, amongst his trusted hunters, to father your own children? Or would you put your choice before his?"

adrastus asked two things, and kukutux had an answer for only one of them. and so she gathered a comfortable silence around them. there was no trail, no story to which she might refer, where sivullik chose the father of the wisewoman's children. it was accepted that women made their own choice when not married. but this was a different thing. such decisions perhaps, now, were not only hers to make.

as the quiet rolled between moonwoman and snowhunter, kukutux pressed her lips against the body of the lynx, soothed by the brush of the sacred fur against her mouth. "sialuk will follow me as moon," the duck murmured. "my son and yours cannot both be first, but this will be something they will decide between them. if they are raised as brothers in the same village, if they know that they may come to eat at my ulaq, and that the sons of the moon may eat at yours, then when this time has come to moonglow, they will already know. their bond will be one of trust." a small smile. "i cannot decide sivullik, even for my own son. firsthunter hands the name to his own. the hunters speak and feast and discuss. sivullik cannot hold the name without the respect of the others. if he is still first when this moon arrives, that means he has kept his word and his son, too, will be given this respect."

and for the last.

the woman was careful, greenstone eyes lifting briefly just as far as the jawline of adrastus before kukutux smoothed herself into the familiar submissive lines of one who saw a hunter, and meant to honor him. "i had not thought of this." she suspected he did not trust her to choose well again. "i will have last choosing," she spoke gently. "bring me the name of your hunter, and i will choose him, or i will take no one to my sleeping place." foregoing children, establishing sivullik's line.

and yet even as she spoke this, kukutux did not think she would pass the season in this way. she was silent now, pristine ears lifted in interest to know if adrastus had already decided, or if he would do so when they had gathered more.

her mind attempted not to think of raimo.

It had occurred to him that he might not choose to lay with Kukutux, even when her time came, though he battled with the thought that someone else might- especially when there were not many other options for her to choose from that he knew. But something did ease the lines of worry that furrowed his brow like lines in fertile earth, when he heard her speak of their sons being brothers. It would be best, he thought, if the youth of the pack grew up as family; as sisters together, learning traditions from their mothers, and the sons learning to hunt from their fathers. "If our children are not the children we have together, I would like very much for them to grow up this way." He said, with a slight nod. 

She seemed to interpret what he wasn't saying, about the choice of the father...And who would be the one to sire her children, if he choose not to. If he did not bring her one which satisfied her, then she would go without. It satisfied him now, and he nodded- but he would need to think about how selfish it might be if he brought her none that she would choose- or if he brought her none at all. It would mean denying her the right and pleasure of having children- and he would have to reckon with that thought over time. 

"May I ask...You had a vision, of Lótë and I together?" He asked. "Have you mentioned this to her, as well?" He asked. His eyes strayed to the lynx pelt. He was not sure the painter would have him if he asked for her- simply because he was not sure they knew each other well enough yet. But perhaps Kukutux had already spoken to her, and had learned that she might favour him. The lynx would likely make a wonderful bride-price- when he was ready to choose who it went to. For now, at least, Kukutux had told him to bring her pelts to him so that she could process them, turn them from animal into fur.

as before, adrastus lent himself to the full embrace of her standards, and it relieved her to know that she would not put ambition before kinship ties. "i have not used direct words," kukutux answered to what he had asked. it would not have been a mention that adrastus would have noticed; a gentle play of implication between women was how their circle was built. there were many plans she could lay for the fate of the cloudberry woman, but all mattered not when it came to what it was lótë wanted. she could not give the painter to any; a wife had last and final choice, as always. as before, adrastus lent himself to the full embrace of her standards, and it relieved her to know that she would not put ambition before kinship ties.

she hoped that her vague-sister would become stronger in this knowledge as the moonwoman moved to teach. while the duck did not believe that speaking of lótë to adrastus was kindly, or seemly — and so she did not — there was raimo with which to contend. he would be restless until he was given something that sated his soul, and mended the place their parting had torn inside him. for surely he was in pain; the feathermoon must take this belief to her heart. the alternate was that he was indifferent to her, a though that scorched her horrified.

"she knows the way of two circles," the duck said softly in reference to the paintwolf's sharing in tradition. perhaps even moreso than herself, the delicate spring-made creature. more here; if adrastus would hear it: confirmation that the aforementioned tradition lent itself to submission beneath the word of a man.

kukutux offered a freedom in final say. but lótë had already two choices before her if she wished. in raimo, in adrastus. both fine hunters who had carved their own status within moonglow. the duck held a selfish pair of thoughts close, unformed, but fell silent beneath the ice-man's eyes.

He did not, in fact, know what women spoke of when they gathered together, or how they spoke to one another. But he could take what Kukutux as enough of a hint that whatever they spoke of, was for their ears. Perhaps she had told the gentle painter more- but perhaps she wanted for Adrastus and the other males to not dip their ears toward conversations which weren't meant for them. So he smiled softly, amused. Kukutux had a way of speaking volumes, he thought, without having to go into details. It was as though she had thoughts which were plenty vocal- and yet she knew she could speak them there, without worrying about him knowing. A clever woman, with an inner narrative. It made him wonder what the women spoke of all the more, but it was not his place to know. Telling him that Lótë as well knew of the way the pack was to exist was enough. At least, then, he might have a better chance. 

He looked fondly at Kukutux, now, even though a part of him had drawn back from admiring her as he might an ocean pearl, in knowing she had chosen to take another into her ulaq. He'd wondered about it, and the timing, and it had brought him to become curious about her practices...And in particular, the state of mourning she had gone through. 

"I am not sure it is for me to know," He said, "But...Can you tell me about your mourning period? If this is private, or if it would hurt to speak of it, you can refuse," He assured her. He wouldn't take offense- but part of him had noticed that once her mourning howls had ended...She had moved on, at least in part. That, he thought, was something that if it worked, and truly eased pain...It might be something that more wolves should know.

there was a visible intake of breath as adrastus inquired, released with a purse of her lips. he had given her a reason to say no, and yet the duck saw no reason to withhold this. while the wound within her had not yet healed, while she did not truly wish to speak, she could not lie. the icewolf sought knowledge before her, recognized her as a wisewoman even despite the flaws she had revealed.

it would be a respect to utter the words. in her usual way the moon became silent, surveying within her mind all the ways she might explain, might illustrate, the world of the spirits and their connection to the ancestral lands in which they had left their children. "i will tell you."

a last glimpse to the lynx-pelt; kukutux was unfurling herself into a stretch that tensed her form; she breathed to dispel the bleakness that clung to her when she thought of why she had mourned. "when you do not see with your own eyes that a spirit has come out of the body where it once lived, you must wait. because i did not see — remember," the moonbow tripped, meaning each word and also together "— because i did not see the body of he who was my husband, i and sialuk went into the waiting time. this is not necessary if you have seen it."

with your own eyes, and her own had begun to grow wet, but kukutux would not tolerate any sort of stay from adrastus; he was gentle enough now to intervene, to back away, and yet she remained fixed upon the telling of it. "seven days. if they do not come back, you know that the death songs must now have their beginning. nine singings."

"it is nine days to pass through the throat of sedna. beyond that, kikuyat: the lights that dance in the sky. you must sing the spirits through each step. after three days, if the one that you sing for comes back, you must turn your back. it is only a spirit who wears the face that you know. on the sixth, you ask for healing. on the ninth, you say goodbye."

yes; the starfall of a tear along her cheek, but she wore it as a silvered resolution.

He would remain silent, even though at times he wished he hadn't asked her about her ceremony at all. Like a vigil, it seemed, for wolves who had disappeared with no trace to be found that might hint that they lived. There must be another ceremony, he thought, for those who had fallen or passed away whose bodies had been found- but he did not figure he ought to ask those questions until perhaps, some day, the need came for them to address that matter. He'd been curious to know about the mourning songs she and Sialuk had sung, which had haunted the waking nights he had come to stay on the mountain after having searched Moonspear, having thought that perhaps by performing that ritual, it had eased her pain. After all- she now led a new pack, and had taken a lover. The distant look in her eyes was something he'd become accustomed to, having never seen them shine with the light she'd had before the landslide. 

He'd thought perhaps that in performing the ceremony, she'd been able to come to terms with her loss- but as she spoke it became clear that even though she had said her goodbyes, the grief still lingered. It shook him to learn of what might happen on the third day- having never seen a spirit wearing the face of one of his deceased relatives. And he had seen the Northern Lights on many occasions before- but he knew a different set of tales about their significance and meaning. That she would sing to them at all was risky business indeed- as he had been told growing up that if a wolf sang to the dancing lights, then those lights would come down and steal their soul. In passing, others from other packs had ridiculed that notion, and had claimed that singing to the lights would make them dance brighter, and that they were benevolent in nature. The fact that he already knew two different views on the phenomenon helped him simply accept the beliefs that Kukutux had. In singing, she could guide the spirits of the lost to the realm of the dancing lights. 

With his breath caught in his throat, he moved to close the distance between them, and reached out to touch her cheek, where the trail of silver tears glossed over the gossamer fur of her cheek. She grieved still; and even in her grief she accomplished so much, and pushed herself so hard to keep the pack together. He reached out to gently caress the top of her head, leaning his jaw against hers if she did not pull away, so she might lean against him for comfort.

inside the cage of the duck's ribs, her heart felt a dissimilar and new sensation come upon it. she was willingly drawn closer; she gave no resistance to the embrace of the man who would be sivullik. and once there, once ensconced against the muscular warmth of him, the scent of earth and of blood and of lynx surpassing all her senses, kukutux found a tight thread of something calm.

was this what she had sought in raimo? he had brought her pleasure with his embrace; she had sought to use it as cedarwood pulp, mending the ragged place within herself. free as widow. free as woman. free as moon. unbound, untethered. 

and in the end, kukutux had not chosen with wisdom. what was the worth of freedom if it exacted such a price as this? the tears had not ended; the duck closed her weary eyes and allowed herself the relief of the nearness adrastus had provided her, the power of him soft and yielding. he did not move to do more; he was only still and assured beneath the small tired weight of her pale body.

come, daughter. dry your eyes. you have shown enough of yourself.

tooteega, shuffling close, eyes undimmed as she watched the sight of the icehunter and the moon. 

kuktutux at last ended their connection upon the end of a breath; she lifted her greenjade gaze to him. "i will prepare the lynx skin for you, adrastus." and in her voice, the sparkle of gratitude, even if she could not remain with him in this way as long as she wished.