Ouroboros Spine Aliuk-aimagvik

It was Asivaq that led the family among the ulax to choose a place for the children to nest and to sleep, and after her own sleep Kigipigak saw her away; she went to visit her sister.

Kigipigak was left to watch over Atausiq, Malguk, and Sisamat. Of the three it was the boy that slept the soundest — dropping as soon as he touched the sleeping furs. For a time the father watched his children and sank inward to the well of shame he carried.

He had failed as a husband. He had failed as a father. Those of the Moon knew this, saw this plainly now. No doubt remained in his heart that he had done wrong by Asivaq by choosing her. Now home among people he could never truly understand nor hope to understand his own culture, Kigipigak knew also that he would fight against the impact of Kukutux for as long as he must.

He watches the trio sleep, vowing to keep the strength of Tartok strong through them. The grandmother would not take another of his children away with her spirit-talking. She should be pleased to have her daughter returned to her at all, and know better than to insert herself here.

The news Valiant delivered had disturbed him, though he could not quite say why. He'd decided, ultimately (and with much rambling about it to @Simbelmyne) that he was glad to hear that Ariadne was alive and well. But he didn't know what else to think about it.

He had not forgotten about Kigipigak, either — though this was not the name that Dutch had known him under. He'd appreciated the other man's stalwart presence right up until it was gone, leaving him to question where the impression of stalwartness had come from. But, ultimately, he didn't know what had driven the man from the Great Bear Wilderness any more than he knew what had driven Ariadne.

The panther announced himself as he came to the borders, hoping that @Ariadne might here and make herself available to him. He didn't know if he expected apology or explanation, but he found himself wanting to look upon her pretty face.

He sought her out, catching her scent and following it to the thicker scent of a family home. When he was still a ways off, he called out in a low woof, hoping to be met peacefully. He had come to see that Ariadne was not among them after all, but he thought he might rather speak with Kigipigak, anyway.

He was in a state of hypervigilance as he watched over the children and organized the sleeping place. It looked no different from his usual focused, somewhat stern self. When a call rose by the borders Kigipigak elected to ignore it, as his job was no longer centered around being a leader or ferrying people around his village — his village had failed and fallen, again.

Some time later a shape darkened the proverbial doorstep of the ulaq and the man was there, quickly; he expected Asivaq's mother or one of her sisters, maybe the Sunman to be standing there. Instead it was Dutch, which was a surprise.

Kigipigak stepped from the ulaq and gave a friendly tip of his head to the other man. He was surprised, but glad to see a friendly face. It slipped Kigipigak's mind to be wary here too, given the way he and his wife had eloped.

Dutch, welcome.

Welcome.

The greeting, friendly as it was, took the panther by surprise. He'd expected some sort of resentment or sheepishness in light of all that had happened, and it occurred to him now for the first time that he'd likely not crossed Kigipigak's mind nearly as much as the man had crossed his own. Their burgeoning camaraderie had been cut perilously short by his hunting with Chakliux. He'd not been a fixture in the man's life for some time by the time they'd departed.

That didn't mean he was immune to the hurt this dismissiveness left in his heart. He wondered, though, if he wasn't being to sensitive about the whole ordeal.

"Welcome back," Dutch replied, matching his tone and his expression to the trader's. To the former trader's, rather. The scent of pups marked him now as a father, and Dutch wished his own children were here already so that he could say, me too — and have something more to talk about with the man. But it was not so. "I am glad to see you well," he told him, quite honestly, "And your family expanded!"

He was glad to have someone he knew come and visit, even if they were not good friends with one another. It was better than having to guard against the influence of the Sunshine People. We have two daughters and a son, Kigipigak went on to share, confirming that their family had grown; but he would let them rest now in the ulaq.

Kigipigak knew better than to let his guard down by much, but he felt confident in the moment to step away, so that he could focus on the man and have a small break from the children.

How fares Moonsong? He remembered the name, but did not know much else; and while Kigipigak knew the choice to elope had come at a cost, he wasn't about to apologize for it. At the time it was their only option—and it had made Asivaq happy.

"Blessings," Dutch said with a wag of his tail, meaning it most heartily. Talk of children was almost enough to erase thoughts of Betrayal before the name Moonsong was fired point-blank into his heart.

"We are called Morningside, now," he replied, taking a seat nearby now that they were a shorter distance from one another. "Recently, we have moved from the glacier to the deepwood between here and Moontide. We are few in number; it is my wife, Simbelmyne and my cousin, Minnow. Minnow just gave birth to three children. Two sons and a daughter. Perhaps someday one of your three will find their match among them!"

He was gregarious again for a moment, but the furrow soon returned to his brow. The gall to mention Moonsong so casually still bothered him, but he was no longer a hot-headed young man.

"My father is among us, too," he told the man. "But he is away now visiting my mother. He should return soon with news of her newest litter. She raises them by herself each year."

He gazed at Kigipigak a moment longer before asking,

"What brought you back here?"

If Kigipigak could ask about Moonsong, Dutch decided he could very well inquire.

If Kigipigak was meant to feel regret for his actions, he did not. The fact that Moonsong had survived in another form was proof he need not worry, and as Dutch explained it had become Morningside, and had not fallen, only changed.

When Dutch asked his question, Kigipigak was not shy with his answer.

Our village struggled. There was much work split between myself and my brother-in-law, Stratos. Kigipigak thought of the constant patrols and hunts, and how strained his relationship with his wife became because of that distance.

Our children came and one did not make it. At that point, we knew that our village was not a good place. It was Asivaq who wanted to return—and I am obedient to my Issumatar.

Their migration to Moonglow was not something he would have chosen if he was in control of the family, but per Tartok culture he was not meant for that distinction. Keeping them safe was his role and the bigger decisions went to his wife.

So we are here now. I only hope to make my wife happy again.

He did not know he'd had it in him, but Dutch felt a small sweep of relief to hear that a brother had been among them. It was better than imagining them off on their own, no help to be had. He thought of Minnow when he thought this, and he thought a little of Simbelmyne and himself. But it was different for they three, located between two packs where they might find family.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said in a low voice, wishing that they'd had the same. If he were a different person, he might have felt a stirring of anger — but the compassion in him rose up and whispered that his mother had done the same thing, raising her children in isolation, and almost all of them had survived. It was the luck of the draw, and there was no saying whether or not the fourth child would have survived even if they'd been among family.

But Kigipigak finished on a slightly lighter note, and Dutch nodded his agreement.

"I am sure she will be," he said, his tone bracing. "These sunshine people are very close. It must have been difficult for you both, for her to be so far." He meant it without judgement, now; they had done what came naturally to wolves, but not what came naturally to this family.

Not at first. Kigipigak admitted, then sighed as he thought of those early days, the hope they shared, the love that had all but overwhelmed them as Asivaq hunted for the best place for the family.

She was happy to be away initially. We went far north until we found a camp of my own people. They taught her better than I could what it means to be Tartok and she was hungry for it. And when we returned, she chose where we built the village. Kigipigak saw nothing wrong with giving over control to a powerful woman, whose willpower and strength could stand without him. It took some time before it all changed.

But, yes. I think the loss of our boy... It made Ariadne miss her mother and her sisters. Perhaps it is a female thing. He gave a dismissive shrug as he thought about it aloud before Dutch.

I worry though. Here he pauses, because it makes him feel weak to admit any faults, especially to a man such as this. Kigipigak becomes a touch more evasive.