Ouroboros Spine a familiar sense of grief

Mojag speaks with more wisdom than she could expect from a boy his age, and it does nothing but swell Shikoba's heart with pride. Despite all of what happened behind the scenes with the absence of his father and the lament of his mother, Mojag still cares and moves forward. And his words were true, Shikoba knows this. He had the charming personality that would bring about many friends throughout his lifetime, and thankfully Kukutux's own children welcome the singular spawn of the native woman.

As he presses himself against her own body, Shikoba must do everything to not let her tears slip. Inutsuk would be proud of his son, to know how much he cares and how much he tries. Yet, he isn't here nor has been for many moons. Shikoba had even worried that Inutsuk did not leave a large enough imprint on Mojag to be remembered. But, perhaps the woman does not give her son enough credit for his ability to learn and memorize.

"Anaa has you," she whispers softly into his ears, "and Anaa loves you, with all her heart." No matter what happens in the future, Shikoba knows that with the strength of Moonglow behind her and Mojag, they will be fine. 

The word hunter rings about in her head, and for a moment, the woman thinks quietly to herself. She would need to take Mojag out for focused lessons on hunting and tracking, for if he is to follow in her footsteps and bear the Pheasant Tail name, he would need to prove himself. "What has little Mojag hunted?" Her voice is still quiet, soft, though brims with curiosity. If Mojag is able to let go, then she would not force the wound of memory onto him any longer. Instead, she would replace it with something joyful, and something they can share.