Ouroboros Spine kirnmitkuk ⊟

What was asked tugged at something deep within Kigipigak which he had neglected, having given up being a warrior so long ago, and now being a father and husband, he thought of it and felt something close to mourning for the absence.

I see no reason to share your warriors with them. It sounds more like a threat; that they are testing you, the village, and friends to Moonglow, to see how strong we are. He was frowning.

This invisible piece of himself which had been traded away for the civility he now carried, the leadership role he coveted, the family he had built. Being a father had become the most important thing in his life - but before all of that, he had been a warrior. He had been Tartok, through and through; black-blooded, as they were called.

And now he found himself pining for those early days. A sense of nostalgia flooding him while Kukutux speaks of danger and war-councils and things that do not mesh with young boys, or new parents.

Natigvik is small — it is not built with warriors but with hunters. My boys have grown up on stories of Tartok and desire that life for themselves, but it will be some time before they are able. That was all he could offer of his village.

Perhaps I will seek out these people myself, and have words. I wish to know their intentions. If they see threats on the horizon. He found himself missing the empty northlands, suddenly.