Ouroboros Spine alivâpuk ⩷

As she had done so many, many times before, the daughter listened, soaking up the story that her mother told. It was, in some ways, like the legends anaa spoke of. Tales of the snow, how they came to be, where the plants and creatures had come from. Sialuk wished she could know her grandmother, her grandmother's sister, and more. But they were gone in the tragedy had befallen the island—Kukutux's place of birth.

Did you ever wish for more wives to be with taataa? Sialuk asked. She still felt sorrow in her heart for the absence of her father and brother, but the nine days of mourning had been months ago, and in some ways it was easier to talk about them now.

And what of Aiolos? she asked, suspecting that he too had caught her mother's eye. The story would be different this time, Sialuk knew. Anaa was not something to be bartered with under the Ostregas. She was wisewoman here, as her aunt had been in her own way upon the mountain.