Phantom Hollow saviguk ❄

“ ‘A star shines upon ze hour of our meeting,’ ”  the stricken deigned to administer, chords strumming quiet all the same; the mists here cowling the northern figments in trendling white; a gathering.  “It is in mine mother tongue,”  the floral'd, foreign words rather at odds to the more faux-slavic settlement within her throat. Perhaps this esqimawe might find such sounds unpleasant ... so far, though, ears have not shied yet from the speaking. Yet.

A name, then;
like the clicking tongue of southerners, so much so farther than these wilds. The sibyl listened to the ended echo of it, before—  “Kuktus.”  Half-annihilation! but the once-heiress soon halted in place; again chirruped,  “Ku.. kukucks,”  not yet—  “Tukukus,”  damnation!—  “... Kukutux?”

Near anguish limned the lune-ruined features; eyes of despairing hope upon the arctic's kindly guise.