Ouroboros Spine atiga-anun

There was nothing from the boy but the bare minimum, and Kaluktuk could not even fault him for it. What had the man given to his son except that same thing? Food and shelter, protection, but not enough of his focus and not enough of himself; and so there was this rift between them, and it was not easily mended. At the very least Kivaluk was open to considering things. That would have to be enough to sustain Kaluktuk. The man would take a deep breath as if to speak again, and then appear to deflate, to nod his understanding, accepting all of this.

His son was angry—or maybe he had been angry, and now froze that part of himself the way Kaluktuk had frozen his own heart when he had lost Sakhmet. There was something familiar in the way Kivaluk now looked at him: a finality, a deeply rooted chill. It was like looking upon an unfriendly glacier that could cleave apart at any moment.

I'm sorry for everything. Kaluktuk said now as he drew back; but he did not want to turn his back upon Kivaluk—not ever again—and while he could sense their conversation was ebbing to a close he was reluctant to do so. While the man wanted to say something else and paused long enough to imply there were more words to be said, he found that look upon his son's face and was silenced by it. It was time for him to return to Ariadne in the forest.

He did not say goodbye; this was in no way resolved.