Ouroboros Spine qitunġaġiit

@Vairë? Or I can reference.

The best thing to do for Kigipigak would involve stepping away from the village to cool his head. Following the conversation with his now-ex wife, all he could think about—all he could concentrate on while internally he stewed in his shame, anger, and sense of betrayal—was the thought of his children. They had not been at the sleeping place and so he found himself investigating, trying to find where they had gone. Their scents led him to the place of Ariadne's sister Vairë, and while he would not get too close, he made sure it was known that he was there.

Akmaaksi? @Nutuyikruk—Tautukpik, your father is here. He said it this way to remind those of Moonglow of the blood tie, for as sure as Kigipigak was of his connection there, he also knew those among the sleeping places had undoubtably heard the argument between their parents. He wondered if he would be welcome to see them, or if the heir to Moonglow might intervene; but it was all he thought of now, and all he wanted.

"Aaba?!" Lynx's voice quivered and- cried. Oh, she did not know how to control herself. Dearly, she tried to be quiet, but nothing stilled her.

Nutuyikruk heard. Their voices, their distress, and how things continued to change so quickly. She was now with her auntie, who she knew little of. Huddled closely to her brother, sister, as if they were the last thing she had. Tautukpik would have a warm spot upon his neck where she had pressed her nose into to control her breathing. But they hardly controlled her emotions.

Aapa's voice was enough to make her spring up and run for his arms.

quick cameo to establish she’s here!!

Vairë had heard.

The cold glitter of her eyes in the shadows spoke as much, as she whisked her tail around her own babes. She allowed Kigipigak’s children to run past with a little smile touching her features for a brief moment.

Then, she was back to staring, waiting, poised to intervene.

One girl came running, and the boy—followed lastly by the third child, and the shining eyes of the watchful Doe Woman; but Kigipigak only focused on the children as they crowded him. Nutuyikruk looked to be the most affected as her face was drawn and wet, and he hugged her close, and kissed the crown of her head.

It is okay, Nutuyik. Beside her was Tau, who appeared to be stuck between comforting one sister or the other, but he came close enough for Kigipigak to lend some affection to him, and then to Akmaaksi. He crouched in a way to be on their level, so they would not be afraid.

I know the voices were scary. Aaka and Aaba were loud. I am sorry for that. It was the first apology he had given anyone within this family, but he felt they were owed it the most. Know that your Aaba loves you very much.

He wondered briefly if he could say the right thing, would they rebel against their mother? Would they be able to convince her to stay within the marriage for their sake? It was too much to put upon such young faces; so he held the children close, feeling their warmth and wishing it was enough.

And when the tears tried to stop, they soaked her cheeks horribly. Shaky sobs, weeping into the fur of her daddy as her wrists clung to his neck. She did not mean to hog him. Really, she didn't. Oh, she did not mean to be in the way, or to be rude at all. Nutuyikruk did not mean it, she really didn't.

Unclasping from an embrace cut short by the throat, her legs hit the ground and she choked upon every word. "It," she couldn't stop the hiccups, "okay, Aaba." Tear-soaked. "I," trying, "nnlove," trying, trying, "you, Aaba." Trying. Trying. "Nutu-- love, you."

She looked at him then, her bottom lip trembling and shaken, but she could trust him in anything. If asked, he would answer, and he always would. Nutuyikruk knew little of why this question made her voice break. "Aaba going away now?" A fizzled sniff. "Aaba?"

cameo!

nantahala had been snuggled up next to her own aaka when the sudden sound of crying stirred her from her sleep. one baby blue pops open, blonde lashes fluttering; the source of the awful sound was her new friend! naturally, the girl did not like this.
much too young to understand what was going on in her life, all nantahala can think to do is toddle over to her and offer her presence as comfort, chin wobbling with the threat of her own tears.

Kigipigak saw what the argument had done to the children now, as Nutuyikruk cried and did her best to assuage her father's own heartsick feelings, which made him feel so much worse; and he found himself blaming Ariadne for this pain, which he knew was unfair but he could not help. A true partnership of an issumatar and their chosen sangilak could last for years but it was Ariadne's choice, and it had been made.

I am. But I will never be very far, and I will always come back. He promised this, speaking as plainly as he could for the girl's sake. As much as she hurt, he knew she was innocent and to some degree ignorant of what had truly transpired. Nutuyikruk and the other children would come to see his absence most blatantly, as Kigipigak had spent the two weeks following their move almost exclusively with them; and that was unfortunate, that they should be wounded in this way.

Your mother loves you, and I love you. Be nice to her, okay? Listen to her. At this, he saw an expression of hurt upon Akmaaksi and then witnessed the girl turn and flee back to Vaire's sleeping place, which earned a small sigh; and then he saw Tautukpik drawn again in to the tug-of-war between the two. One sister crying, one sister angry. Kigipigak's expression softens enough to let Tau know to go, if he wants to. The boy whines softly and then vanishes in to the ulaq after her.

With Nutuyikruk alone now, Kigipigak holds her tightly. You will grow up big and strong, and we will go on adventures together. Okay? I promise.

Of every word he was supposed to say, she knew the ones that should come. Some might go, 'No, I will not leave'. Others might go, 'I am staying right here'. Some might even go, 'Why would you ask such a thing?' And others may even go, 'You, your Aaka and I should go on an adventure together'. Some might even go, 'Lets go watch the stars', because lets go watch the stars, Aapa, she missed them right now.

Nantahala would feel the shiver of her head, and Aapa would feel how she very much broke. Nutuyik hated how she could not see the eyes of her Aapa when she tried to, and how blurry the world became right now. "No, Aaba!" she tried her best not to scream, and still her voice grew a bit loud, and maybe it became loud because it was the only way she could form words out. 

Little was heard, only the simple fact he now laid out for her that he was leaving. "Don' leave me, Aaba!" or Akmaaksi, or Tautuk. He couldn't leave Aaka, he couldn't leave them, and he especially could not leave- her. "Don' go, Aaba. Stay, Aaba." I have been with you for a lifetime. "Aaba, I go talk to Aaka," she looked around, frantically, and yet unable to move at all. "Aaka will tell Aaba to stay, Aaba!" She loved him.

Only not long ago, Nutuyik only cried when the sun went away and the night awoke. Nutuyik only stilled in the arms of her Aapa when he sang lullabies, because she loved lullabies, and she loved her Aapa. And all now she could hear was that she was losing her Aapa, and she couldn't breathe right. "Let jus' go talk to Aaka, Aaba. So you stay here wid- Nutu, Aaba! Aaba n Aaka lub eacho'der, Aaba. Dey love eacho'der. Dey really do." And she knew people who loved each other weren't supposed to leave. So, how could he leave?

Over and over he listened to the girl plead, plead for her father to stay. That she would go and she would fix this for him, that she would demand that Ariadne change this, and his heart felt ready to burst; except it was broken, and all of the feeling that welled up inside of him now flooded him to such an extent that Kigipigak did not know what to do. He thought, blithely, that he should not have come at all! Look at what this was doing to her! But he had to see her—see them, all of them, even as they hid in the ulaq, even as the Doe Woman watched; regardless of his shame, he was where he felt he must be.

I'm sorry Nutu. If I could fix it, I would. I know you don't like it, he slowly released her from the hug, but watched her closely, and tried to dry some of her tears. I know it doesn't make sense. A breath; inhaling draughts of her, watching her face, trying to commit what he could of each child to his memory for the long days away from them.

Your brother and sister, they will need you to be strong. Okay? He nosed at her, and motioned to the ulaq where he saw Tautukpik's watery eyes gleaming with darker lines beneath, inside by his sister. Look, see? They need you right now. Go on. Only then would he feel strong enough to go. But the girl might fight him on this too, and then what? In the back of his mind Kigipigak thought, please, Nutuyikruk, please understand.

'Take," she tried to say 'me', but her lips failed to move, "wid you, Aaba." She did not know what to do with herself, and only sat wobbly as her aapa dried her tears with each finger upon his pads. With the bottom of her feet very cold, and her nose so very warm. Stared in numb wait, as she wondered what she was supposed to do without him.

Why, he said he would come back. Nutu believed it. Why, Aapa never lied. Aapa did as he said he would, and she knew this was not goodbye, but it was a change she was not ready for. Who else was supposed to sit with her at night? And sing songs, and tell bedtime stories? Aaka was very busy with her own Aaka and family. Aapa was always there.

Tautukpik and her would have to try again, with more food. More gifts. More something, or anything that Aapa might like, because she no longer knew what else to do. One day, they would be enough for Aapa to want to stay.

Aaka needed him. Didn't he know that? How else were they supposed to be their mommy and daddy when they were apart?

Before her words gave up, she reached for a final hug and collapsed there. Unmoving, and only because she forgot how to. Even the smallest goodbyes upset his daughter, and this one? Aapa never said when he would be back, but she would wait every day for him. His word was his word, and it was his word now, too, when he said 'go on'. Sluggishly slipping from him, the sniffles tried to slow, and for a moment, she curled with Nantahala before leaving to her brother and sister. 

One last hug, one last look; but not the last farewell, unfortunately. How many times would this repeat? How often would Kigipigak visit in the future and watch his children grow up from an outsiders perspective—and have to repeat this moment, this hurtful leaving that Ariadne forced upon their family?

He watched Nutuyikruk go.

He looked longingly in to the dark of the ulaq and saw @Vairë watching; and in that moment he cared little about his audience, who might see his eyes shining and the hopeless sag of his shoulders.

Then he turned and moved off, finding the path and leaving them quickly, so the children would not see him go.