Ouroboros Spine kakitlannak ⧎

It did not feel right to return so suddenly, so calmly. But he feared that if he did not return soon, he would be forgotten. Too much time had passed. His family needed him... if they would even accept him back, that is.

After not seeing it for so long, the spine looked almost unrecognizable; but the scent of Shikoba was not. Despite the pain and exhaustion, he trudged onward into the territory, nose directly set upon the only place he wanted to be: in her embrace, and then to see his son.

It didn't take long to find her, his wife. She sat beneath the veil of a grand, red tree. Kukutux was there beside her. The two conversed in hushed whispers, and around them were various objects he knew nothing of. If not too distracted, Inutsuk would have wondered what the items were and what they were meant for. But he didn't care. Not now.

Approaching closer... closer, until he was in close sight of both. He was slow moving, shoulders sore from the constant travel with limited rest. Inutsuk could not stand to close his eyes. Each time he had, he saw them... Shikoba and Mojag. They were ghosts that haunted him, but yet, they were not ghosts. They called for him in each waking moment, but he refused them time and time again. He had known he couldn't return without fulfilling the purpose of his departure. Doing so would drive the guilt and shame further, leaving him with nothing. 

He was close enough, standing there just a short yard away. His body trembled, vocals tight. He needed them to know he was here, but he couldn't bring himself to bark, to howl, to speak... nothing would come. Please... see me, hear me. Silent plea's, sorrowful eyes blinking away at the dry, tearless ducts. Even man cried, and he had many times in the last month. The first of many times he had ever cried since the beginning of his existence.