Moonspear takpiilaagruk ⋗

"she has gone to sedna. she and a daughter."

somber. the afternoon sun was cool this hour. mother settled beside @Sialuk, eyes fixed upon nothing.

"vairë is anaa now, to three children."

the moonwolves grew.

their loss struck to the heart of them.

kukutux drew a breath suffused with tears, but did not weep.

there would be time enough for it when she had gone home.

The starwoman leaned into anaa, feeling as though she was the girl who had lost braataa and taataa all that time ago. The pain was there, digging deep into her spirit, wrapping its claws around her heart and refusing to loosen its grip. Until Sialuk could sing the songs, she felt that a small piece of her sister remained imprisoned within her, unable to reach Sedna.

When two moons have come and gone since they arrived, I will bring Moontide's sons home and teach the songs to Rodyn, she said.

kukutux let out her breath.

"i have said nothing. but she — needs your voice also."

ariadne had done well. what a burden for two daughters now, one they must hold always.

now, silence. now, tears. she wound her arms around sialuk and kissed the snowy temple.

The younger woman nodded in agreement. She will have it, she said, feeling herself relax in the embrace of her mother. A morbid, dark, and terrifying thought occurred to her then—one day, hopefully many years in the future, she would sing the death songs for Kukutux.

the thought had come in quiet to kukutux many times.

the pain that had lodged beneath her breastbone seemed a slipping illness. in silence she treated her malady, for it would pass.

she could not lose her strength at a time such as this. 

"when they have a good age, i have the want for all of my grandchildren to come and stay a time with me in moonglow. panuk and rolayne must know all the faces of their family. in us do we keep their mother alive."

The thought of the moon villages together brought Sialuk some hope for the future. She remembered another thing she had not yet told anaa. A bright light in the midst of all the darkness.

Elentari and I are to be wed. This would make a good excuse for the meeting of villages, she said, sending her mother a look that asked for her blessing. Acrux was the bride price she paid, she added, glancing to the ulaq behind them where he played with his sister. I have told Argent of the price you asked, too. That felt so long ago now, a distant memory after so much had happened.

the smile that came upon kukutux was genuine and soft; she pressed her cheek to that of sialuk.

"it shall be this. we will come together for joy. for you."

argent and elentari. it seemed sialuk too had found this joy in both at her hearth, and kukutux was greatly pleased by this. "he will give it?" she asked, though the green eyes assumed which answer would come.

There had never been part of Sialuk that had thought her mother would disapprove of Elentari, but to have her blessing was something she had always wished for. To be given that gift was special, and the starwoman felt some joy trickle into her heart, despite the tragedy that overshadowed much of it. There was the question, then, of whether or not Argent would bring the bride price.

He will, she said. He has been a good father to Maggak and Acrux. A good partner to Elentari. Had Kukutux known the relationship that Argent and Elentari shared? Sialuk did not know, but surely anaa would know now. It was a wish come true to be surrounded by those she loved, and those who loved her back.

Glaukos has not returned; I do not know if he will. He is father to Maggak as well. Ittuk is quiet, but he is present. Chakliux visits from Moontide. Only Argent makes himself known as the children's father.

glaukos.

nuak.

sialuk had lain with a man her mother once named tupilak. 

but the duck did not know this.

four men had been called by sialuk, it seemed. argent stood as their father. "aiolos would have stood for you," kukutux said. he had been a wonderful choice. argent would be the same for sialuk, she believed.

The starwoman nodded, smiling as much as she could, considering the cloud of sorrow that still shrouded every interaction. Until she was able to truly grieve, to sing the songs for sistraa, she would not be at peace. He is a dear step-father to me, she said. Perhaps if she had never known taataa, Aiolos might have been more to her. But Sialuk had Ostrega in her blood that she knew. She remembered how Moonspear once was, how her ancestors had held it many years before she had come to be. It led her thoughts elsewhere.

Has the wolf with my brother's face gone away? she asked. He had not come here, and Sialuk had not seen him in Moonglow the times she had visited.

cool to fade here <3

"i have sent him away."

and away he must go. and away he must stay.

the spirits did not yet know mauruk, they knew only the boy who had died.

kukutux found she had no more to say.