Moonspear aliuktuk ⚶

she had dragged all the furs out of doors, returning to kick and prod what debris was inside until it too was ousted. the cache outside the entrance to their ulaq held sticks of meat; she had picked a mouthful of wildflowers and returned with them. 

satisfied that they had dried well, kukutux crushed them as gentle as she was able, letting the torn little blooms litter the floor of the den. the duck was driven not only by the blooming primordial sense of change, but also the taboos that had been taught to girls before they spoke their first word.

was she wrong to want jarilo near? it was a shy thought, one rooted in no disrespect for the silent spirits, and yet a pain twinged sharply along her flanks. startled, kukutux dropped the pelt she had meant to carry back inside. again, the thought, again the pain. she swallowed fearfully. this taboo could not be broken; the teeth of the great bear had threatened her twice now. 

shaken, the duck finished her work in a quick silence, dropping the furs atop the crushed wildflowers and tidying the small clearing outside with a grim air.

she was rewarded; the pain did not come again.