Ouroboros Spine And do you ever feel like you're alone?

Story taken from here if anyone would like to read it in its entirety

Vairë gave a smile, small, but present, then back to the sky she looked. She thought, and she thought, before she let out a soft “ah!” of a sound.

I will tell you of Raven and his Grandmother. She said, pointing to a distant black spot against the dark sky.

In her barrabara at the end of a large village, lived an old grandmother with her grandson, a raven. The two lived apart from the other villagers because they were disliked. When the men returned from fishing for cod, the raven would come and beg for food, but they would never give him any of their catch. But when all had left the beach, the raven would come and pick up any leftover refuse, even sick fish. On these, raven and his grandmother lived.

One winter was extremely cold. Hunting was impossible; food became so scarce the villages neared starvation. Even their chief had but little left. So the chief called all his people together and urged them to use every effort to obtain food enough for all, or they would starve.

She told the story in a soft voice, slipping into a high, crowing tone for Raven’s voice, and a creaky older tone for Grandmother. Until she reached the last of the tale.

The raven's first wife, the chief's daughter, had a son by him, a little raven. She had it in her arms at the beach and walked in front of raven, where he could notice her. "Here is your child, look at it," she called. But he ignored her. She called to him several times and continued to show him the baby. At last he said, "Come closer--nearer still." But when she could not stand his odour any longer, she left him without a word.

Death occurred as a result of the feast. Many of the people ate so much fat on the spot that they died soon after. The rest of the people had eaten so much and filled their barrabaras so full, that during the night they all suffocated. Of the entire village, only three were left--the raven, his new wife, and the grandmother. There they lived on as their descendants do to this day. She tucked her daughter close to her, eyes still on the sky. Sadness closed her throat.

This should have been a story told beside the sea.