Stone Circle how we love is what will last

She shifts beside Taktuq to eye the Pilgrim Stone and it seems to stare back, its northern span crowned in lichen, its cracked silver face having endured many winters. There is no one buried here that she has known. Her paws upon hallowed ground are a visitor’s steps. For Taktuq, this is mother. Death clings to the breath of the ancients, but there is a life in the progression of passed souls back to the earth. A life that stands beside her.

“Don’t be. She must have really loved you.” She closes her eyes, to try and envision a silver woman there, she who gave her life for her children. “A mother like that is worth remembering. We will never forget Nanook.” She stands in stillness until the waft of fiery petal draws an eye.

“Back home, we believe red is the color of life,” She smiles, turning to look at Taktuq, “How fitting for a mother who gave life twice to her children.”