Whitewater Gorge tulaktuk ‡

She told him to.. hunt? This was a surprise to Kigipigak. His people, the Tartok, were not a superstitious kind and they did not teach their children to be thoughtful of the spirits, not like other tribes. That told Kigipigak that this Kukutux was of a different place in the north; he was suddenly curious of her, wondering if she knew of Tartok beyond his single village. They were known to pillage through the homes of others after all.

It would be wise not to mention them, he thought next, so he did not. 

Uxtil... To shed blood of something would bring wives to their door? A custom he did not know. Kigipigak could learn this; perhaps it was something that the women do, a part of the match-making he was not supposed to know of, as a man.

Annaumanasungniq, she said; a compliment. He smiles.

Kuyaruk, Kukutux. Kigipigak says with a dip of his head, his gaze sweeping from her away, to the water, the foam that swirled the surface. A place like this which they now shared would have been a good spot for fishing—there had been one such place near Unnuakvik; his mouth filled as he salivated at the memory.

Kuviasruktuk; nakuu sima ruk uxtil, savak taksragi giga. His tail waves at his hocks, he watches the water flowing and imagines it taking bloom with the red bellies of fish, the flowing of blood. Kigipigak takes a deep breath and basks in the crisp air rolling off the river as well as the familiar qualities of Kukutux, not wanting to leave her yet.

Iglaak tatkik-ayak-miu pakittuk. Itnasik?