Ouroboros Spine Anukasha

Mojag was no hunter. He did not know the word yet, nor did he understand that his own mother was sivullik to the village of his birth. He only understood things in a very basic sense: that there was a fluffy little thing buzzing around, and that he could almost catch it. Its path was not straight and following after the bee was more fun than sitting around, waiting for his parents to rise with the dawn, or return from whatever task they had set out to do while the land was still dark.

The bee moved in haphazard arcs, irregular circular patterns, and sometimes would stop to inspect the smallest flowers as they poked up through the grit of the earth. The boy was fixated upon it, and would hasten his step each time the bug stopped to refuel, and then launch himself after it when it took off again. Not once did he catch it.

There came a voice, and for a second Mojag thought the bee had been the one to speak. He slapped the earth and peered at it, waiting for more, except nothing came. Ha-oh! He bellowed as loud as he could, mimicking the greeting he had heard, and the gust of his breath sent the bee in to a barrel-roll away from him. With a huff he sat on his bum and appeared to give up entirely on the game.

That was when he spotted a woman smiling down at him, and he beamed up at her toothily, then tried again with the sound: Ha-oh!!