Ouroboros Spine a familiar sense of grief

An obedient son she raised, for her little warrior comes loping with his usual joyful gait. And while she'd love to humor his normal, playful antics, Shikoba finds herself remaining settled and quiet. The flick of his tongue is enough to snap her out of this trance, and she thankfully returns a well-earned lick against the bridge of his nose that reaches towards his forehead. A kiss she so lovingly missed from Inutsuk.

"Mojag," she says quietly to him, beckoning for him to sit with her with a sway of her paw, "we must talk." God, how she wished she wouldn't have to bear such news to her little boy, the boy who shares the blood of her presumed-dead husband and herself.

"Inutsuk, your father... is gone. And Sh-I," she corrects herself with a clear of her throat, "I fear Inutsuk is not coming back. He said no goodbyes to Mojah, to Shikoba, to Moonglow. I am... confused and worried about you... missing your father."

She pauses now and waits for him to interpret what he can. She would answer his questions honestly, for it was what he deserved.