Moonspear rich folks laugh while the furnace burns

A glimmer of white flashed through the growth ahead of him and his pace picked up. He was certain he had found her, only to discover as he raised his head fully that it was not Sialuk before him but his aunt. For a split second, he had a pang of guilt cross him thinking he would be caught and surely in trouble, but there was nothing about Kukutux that suggested such. Something else may have been lain across her features for a moment, but the strange tongue of affection she spoke in piqued his interest quickly.

“Storm again?” he asked, head tilting. “Again? Like before?” He hadn’t forgotten how it had rained and rained; it had been annoying but he had gotten used to it. Being muddy all the time hadn’t been so bad even if it sparked bouts of disappointment from one supervising adult to another when any combination of children came back a completely different shade than when they had left.

But his gaze followed hers skyward, squinting against the light.

“How do you know that?” His next question was off his lips before he had time to hear an answer. Was it some mystical wisdom that she possessed that others did not? Or was it something that they would all come to know in time?