The Tangle Hands to your hymnals, hell's at the door

They called me Sisamat, Kigipigak explained. I was the fourth-born. My sisters were Atuaserk and Malguk, as they came first and second. It felt like he was explaining something so simple to someone who should have been well versed in the make-up of tribes; but it had not yet occurred to Kigipigak that his home's way was not the same for all homes. That his tribe was more than just very far north, but also very far removed from what was considered normal here.

The children of my tribe keep this name until they have survived to one year. We are all Anneriwok then. Sometimes if a child is particularly good at something the issumatar—ah, the... leader, in this case my mother—gives us new names. I became Kigipigak. As he outlined this he followed Rosalyn through the thicket and around a series of thick mud puddles that must have formed prior to the drop in temperature; they were frosted in places.

I.. Suppose it is not the same here. Have you always been Rosalyn? How boring that must be for her.