Blacktail Deer Plateau from the steeples in the church yard

Ketakuluk.

Ketakuluk—a little bit was still more than those that currently surrounded him, the language belonging to people he wondered if he might ever find. But, he did find them, did he not? There was a boy before him, able to speak that language he treasured, even if only partially. This boy, Tuvak, was surely guided to him not by the uppik but by his ancestors—those that came before him saw the lonesome ways of the young Inuk and thought to resolve it, he was certain.

“I’m Aningan,” he introduced himself, tail wagging; a second later and his tail was stilled, a frown crossing his lips whilst Tuvak’s previous statement struck him. “Come on, maliniakKama,” he offered, approaching the young male to help if needed. “Mânek. Food is still scarce but… there are warm places to stay.” And if the boy was truly there by the will of his ancestors, then Aningan had to help him; he would not turn him away and fall out of favour with the spirits, especially not when he was unbelievably happy to have another of his people there.