Moonspear xii mikigak

The ice of the north was in their blood, they were built to be there in the sheer cold and the long nights; yet somehow both had come to the south where things were easier, yes, but different. Kigipigak mourned those differences.

What do you dream? Kukutux asked of him, and Kigipigak's expression became a little sad, a little guarded, as he had not shared this with anyone before. He was not sure he was ready to share everything.

Mostly... of my mother. Of conversations we have had, others we have not. Sometimes of my sisters too, but lately their faces have gone blank to me. He did not include that above all, his father came to him. 

He was made of the green lights, his eyes black and melting like heated fat over his chin; sometimes he would try to speak and when the man's mouth opened, Kigipigak would wake with a scream or a kick.

Lately I dream of the tuktu running like an endless sea. I am chasing them but never tire; or they are running after me, but my strides are so great that they cannot keep up. Those are my good dreams, I think.

All of it was meaningless to Kigipigak, who merely wished he could sleep and be left alone.