Ouroboros Spine Tunitjuat

Set for the morning of the 19th. Open to any visitors that @Inutsuk or @Shikoba would allow.

The little one was never far from Shikoba, and rarely did he sleep. Even though it was a struggle for him to stay up on his feet, he tried and tried and tried, and when he fell he would kick and try again. Always moving, always making noises. It was as if he spoke to someone present, even when his mother took time to herself outside the ulaq, and his babbling could be heard by anyone passing by.

Today was no different. Mojag was as talkative as ever, yammering away with incongruent noises that could not have been any real language. His eyes had begun to open when the dawn had not yet broken; by the time the sun dominated the sky and the village began to truly awaken, Mojag wore a blurry blue squint.

her three children were left in the care of those at the ulaq.

it had been over ten days and their eyes welcomed now the sun.

kukutux knew she did not have many moments, and she took herself to the hearth of sivullik and inutsuk.

a smile came to her; she could hear the voice of their child.

they had been given a single boy, and the duck put her muzzle near the denmouth with an offering of dried meat for shikoba and a questing look for the little one called mojag.

Usually it was his father that visited with meat, and Mojag had never expressed interest in the tributes that were left for Shikoba. This time, equipped now with new eyes, the boy saw something pale and shimmering come to the doorway.

He trundled over. At first Mojag squinted at the pale shape and the light that diffused through Kukutux' pelt - shifting, golden, gossamer - and then he noticed the meat.

His milk teeth had begun to grow in a day or two ago, and he reached with his mouth for what was brought. Halfway through the motion he stopped, gaping, and turned his head as if he had heard a sound. Mojag was alert to it. There was nothing there beside him, not that Kukutux would see, and it held his fixation for a minute.

As he began his usual babbling he turned back to the meat and the woman looming near it, unperturbed.

at what did he look?

kukutux took turned her green eyes in that direction, but there was nothing she could see.

a furrow of her brow; its smoothing as mojag turned back to her. 

his small jaws had opened for the dried stuff. the duck clucked her tongue. "you have milk. your mother must eat and stay strong." but her own teeth were a grin, and she would not stop him if he reached out again.

The boy became enamored by the thrumming of the white wolf's voice. His eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open as he began to mimic what he had felt; he still could not hear well exactly, but that wouldn't stop him.

Kukutux made sounds that were familiar in tone to the way his mother and father spoke. Mojag did not understand the sounds at all, but his babbling began anew with trills and lip smacking.

He pat the ground with awkward steps, bumbling in to the woman's legs, over one foot, where he face-planted happily and lay sprawled on his belly. She smelled sweet like Shikoba - like milk - and he thought that meant it was lunch time.

mojag trundled forward. 

he smelled her milk. if @Shikoba agreed, kukutux would give him a moment or two at her own breast. they were sisters, and had her own brood been closer, they too would have demanded the same from the sivullik.

the duck smiled. she ululated gently along with him, crooning a baby's song.

berries have sweetness,

your face is the same,

do not run far from your mother!

she will catch you again!

He drank freely from the woman, not aware of his relation to her (or lack thereof), only that she was providing something essential. Her milk was sweet and rich, fattening him up after a few swallows, and when he stopped his feasting he let out a gasp, as a man might after downing a pint of beer.

With his belly now made round, Mojag was not so interested in the pale woman's teats or even the door to the outside world, and promptly pancaked against the ulaq floor for a nap.

Within minutes he was dozing directly under Kukutux, which might've been awkward - and moreso, because a silent string of flatulence slid from him with a noxious efficacy.

now mojag would be milk-brother to her own children.

it was one of many kinship ties he would gather in his life.

a great wind broke from his hind end. the duck chuckled aloud as she slipped down to hold him for a short while.

only some time while shikoba rested. and then she would return to her own small ones.

With his belly full and his bowels diffused, the baby boy was much more content than before. He no longer wriggled about with his useless legs, or squirmed that potato body is to strange positions. The white wolf had proven to be as sweet as his own mother - and as warm, as inviting as any of the bodies within the ulaq. To that end, he grew complacent and lethargic, until he was asleep where Kukutux held him.