Ouroboros Spine The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang

Nobody had ever spoken ill of Ursus to the boy before. He did not know how to take the jesting of the man's voice nor his laughter, which was bursting forth like an unwelcome geyser. Bristling, lashing his tail, he glared at the gray man hotly. His lips trembled as if he might bare his teeth but even now, Kiliutak was cowed and subservient; he did not yet know if this man hoped to strike him down and would not open himself up for more hurt.

Its—Its the name of my home. I don't insult your home— Kiliutak began to retort, except he knew as soon as the sounds left his lips, he was lying. He had disrespected Moonglow by pilfering from its stores, destroying his way up and down the mountain. Knowing this didn't ease Kiliutak in any way.

He stood rigidly outside of the man's reach and finally grimaced rows of teeth at him.

I'm not going back to that rock. Kiliutak declared. Better to fight his way out, he thought. Better that than wasting away in the hot sun while being watched at all hours, only given leave to drink water with a babysitter. He had done some damage to the village weeks ago and still there was no verdict for the boy; only an endless waiting.

No; he was done with that. He wanted his freedom and this man wasn't going to get in his way.