Ouroboros Spine in the dark, we laugh together

The children had fled from him in that instant, and Kigipigak could hardly fault them for doing so. When he had gathered what remained of his dignity (which did not take long given how little he had left) he sought their path, and found they were faster than he expected, and they knew paths he did not recognize; and when he quickly noticed that they'd gone from his reach he gave an exasperated sigh, unsure of what to do.

Calling out for them seemed pertinent, but they had spooked like deer at the sight of him, and Kigipigak did not trust his voice to remain strong if he were to call their names. Would they answer to them? Had they shed their Tartok names for something Sunshine? A bitter thought; again, he would not fault them. He began to carefully wander the village, not wanting to disrupt anyone or be seen as some sort of malcontent (as unhappy as he was); but he found no trace of their trail in the end.

Standing eventually before firemother, and seeing there the whole of Neverwinter in her boughs, and the coming of the winter in the piles of red beneath her, Kigipigak felt the weight of his mourning so acutely that he could have perished there and then.

Why have you come here? 

The young guard comes, padding towards the ground of red leaves which once sat beautifully on Firemother. Even her blaze would be squashed with winter come. 

It is with suspicion that whale boy looked to Kigipigak. Arrluk did not particularly know the man personally, though knew the bad blood which lay between them now, made by the death of his elder sister, the missing and death of their pups, the anger which his parents had held for him. 

And now, he was here, trespassing, as it were. Where open doors were left for any of the Moon villages, he was not any longer, now was he?

For a long time, it had felt like everything was going wrong, and he had tried to fix it, little by little. It had hurt to be branded in so many negative ways, and frustrating to try and be a father to children scattered, and a husband before that to a woman who had come to loathe him; tumultuous, to be certain. Now as Kigipigak looked upon the tree and its shedding of its leaves, he felt nothing.

He knew there was love inside of himself for his children. He knew he loved his wife, even if she was no longer his, even if she no longer lived. He knew he could find respect for her family if he tried. He knew these things on an intellectual level, and yet the feelings he anticipated when he pictured Ariadne, or Kivaluk, or Tautukpik, Akmaaksi, the lost Nutuyikruk—he only felt cold. A nothingness seeping from him.

The tree could have been struck by lightning in that instant and Kigipigak would remain empty.

Instead there came a voice—a young man who, upon glance, looked closer to full-grown than either of his own living children. The look on his face was a scowl; he had the heavy brow of Aiolos, the eyes of Kukutux. To this he was indifferent, also. It was strange—the accusation in the boy's tone might have once riled Kigipigak and yet now, he felt only hollowness.

To see my son and daughter. To mourn together with them. He said.

Looking again to the firemother, he gave a sigh. To try and be together.

Kigipigak did not listen when Moonwoman and Sunman spoke against his union with Ariadne. Instead of heeding them, the older man (and would think more wisdom and responsibility) let the younger wolf be swept away by him. They ran away together, causing a chain of one bad things after another, as though they were cursed. The death of their home they built. Death of their son. Dead of their love. Death of Arrluk's sister's life. It was ten fold which Kigipigak was getting now and he had none to blame but himself. 

Its been two days since they had been seen. They were here, safe, before. They had gone missing and how convient it was that Kigipigak was now here claiming to be looking for them. Perhaps Kigipigak being here had something to do with it, but he wouldn't still be here looking if he had known, right? Your search should be out there. He would jut his muzzle. Then, with softer tones. Would you not find them, and bring them home? If he truly were trying to mend things, this time, maybe, Kigipigak might consider another's words.