Ouroboros Spine juniperus

The summer heat had given way to a blustering wind and after a few days of being buffeted by hot air, there came a stillness, an easing. At night the crevasse became colder. The chill lingered long in to the morning as autumn made its quiet arrival and Kiliutak watched as some of the trees began to shift in color.

He had been watching for a while now; there was not much else to do where he was kept, aside from watch, and listen, and be somehow at peace with his situation. He was not left to his own devices entirely - there were guards and visitors to bring him food - but essentially, Kiliutak had spent the summer in isolation. Whatever rage had been imbued to his spirit found itself quelled, at least in any visible sense.

The boy did not lash out to those that visited any longer; he did not speak much at all, withdrawing to an inner world while he watched time pass and things change around him.

He had not been forgotten — but he had not been set free, either.