Ouroboros Spine ugguanik ⏞⏟

Sialuk was silent as anaa drew blood, smearing it across her to protect her from their eyes. In the past hours, before finding her mother, she had spoken their names aloud to the wind for the last time. Again and again she said them so she might not forget, even if they would never cross her lips again. In her mind, she would remember them.

The sunset was a thing of beauty, and Sialuk found the contrast of it against her own pain unfair and cruel. Sixsix she had not seen since early afternoon; perhaps he knew that these sad songs were coming, and he did not wish to interfere.

When the song began, Sialuk listened the first time to learn it, then began to join in the second time. The words were cruel and kind, sour and sweet in her throat. The way they were sung was difficult, but Sialuk worked her voice to mimic anaa's.

It is time to leave. It is time to leave this place of sorrow. It is time to lift from flesh and walk to home. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Our voices walk with you, beloved spirit.