Ouroboros Spine hymn

as promised, kivaluk spent many nights outside beneath the vast expanse of the heavens; silvery-champagne gaze tracing the shapes of the constellations. a secreted passion that he does as a hobby ... because he does not find tracing the constellations and coming up with stories for them in his mind terrible pragmatic — and because without a teacher he wasn't terribly good.

the stars were, however, useful in night tracking.

but he did not do much of that, either; realizing but not entirely wanting to admit that he was giving up looking for sakhmet.

coming to an assumed conclusion that despite what he desperately wished to think otherwise: maybe she didn't want to be found.

it didn't exactly track with the way he thought kukutux had made her happy and having shortly given birth to his baby sister ... but he was out of options.

it was these thoughts that plague kivaluk as he makes his way back to the shared den; starting with surprise as he is drawn from the somber tendrils of his own thoughts to see the decorating sorcha had done.

he lets out a low chuff of greeting, studying the stone placements and welcoming mat. it looks good. he compliments earnestly.