Ouroboros Spine renaissance

A jubilant, deep-voiced howl announced the end of Ipiktok’s journey.

He had traveled for many moons in the wilds. Communed with the spirits.

His first steps on this path had been taken as a boy. Now, he returned a man.

kukutux dragged yet another shimmering hide from the water with the help of her granddaughters. the work had been good, its demands forcing her to eat more and thus pad her body with health.

sorrow remained poignant in her eyes, and there could be no denial that anguish had taken its toll. but it was a delighted elder who came down the old path, throwing off a new wrap of fresh foxskin to throw her arms about ipiktok.

when she stood back to look over him, she was pleased. he was hale and muscled, and there was a settled air of maturity in his eyes. 

"ipiktok, man of moonglow. it is good to see your face."

“Anânsiak!” he called out at the sight of his grandmother, matriarch of Moonglow.

He embraced Kukutux enthusiastically. Only with age did he realize how small she was in his grown arms. How thin. There were crowsfeet in the corners of her eyes he hadn’t noticed before.

Time had skipped while he’d been away

But her words made his chin tip with pride.

“It is good to be home.” He couldn’t wait to share stories over a dinner of fresh summer meat.

Ipiktok looked around. “Where is my mother?” he asked, wanting her to appraise his new face. Valiant, Nasamiituuq, and his other siblings were looked for as well.

his mother. she drew in a breath, wanting to spare him with more talk of happier things.

ipiktok is a man. speak to him as one.

"she walks far and often now," kukutux murmured of @Vairë, gathering her foxpelt and turning them slowly along the familiar path. "she grieves her sister, woman of moonsong. not two cycles of the moon have passed since she was lost."

her face grew dark and sober; the grandmother looked fiercely to her grandson then. "your mother's heart will be soothed in some way when she sees you, ipiktok."

the ulax were ahead. moonmother called for moonwoman. your son has returned; come and see his face.

Anger drove her less now.

It had mellowed, into something past grief but beyond the mind numbing rage. She kept to her ulaq within the village now, having moved her children there and away from the repose.

She still burned with a need for revenge, for the shadow cast by that much hated caribou man, but she was focused now. She could see the age on her mother, in the way she moved without the smoothness she had remembered from her youth. Grief had aged her mother beyond her years.

Moonwoman was closer to Moondoe than ever. 

She was resting at the lakeshore today, a soft fawn pelt across her shoulders. Her mother’s voice rose from the village, and she picked herself up in a hurry, moving at a swift jog. Her son! Her son was home!

Ipiktok!

He looked like she did, and she was grateful every time she saw him.

Ipiktok felt the change in Grandmother’s tone. Many sad things had passed while he’d been away. An aunt had returned to the dancing lights… and judging by her mood, the loss had been unexpected and sad.

Then, he heard his mother’s voice and his expression grew bright again.

“Anaana!” his deepening, changing voice greeted her.

He, too, broke into a gallop. “My journey has been completed. I have come home,” he told her with pride.

mother and son embraced, and kukutux felt her heart grow light with love at the sight of it.

"and what a fine man he has come back to be," she clucked at moondoe, her smile for them both.

elk meat from caches, berries plucked that day, mounds of duck fat; she prepared a meal, turning away from them so that they might talk.