Cedar Sweep [m] suqłiuġun

Asivaq was numb by the time Kigipigak returned; tear-stained eyes had dried, and her cheeks were wet with the residue of her crying. Pinasut remained in her arms, and she cradled him every so often, in between caring for the children that had survived so far. Her mind had run rampant with superstitions, and she felt severe foreboding.

This place was not their home; this land was cursed.

She should've seen the signs and the guilt of losing a child, and realizing she'd picked the wrong territory gnawed at her until she was only a shell of herself. Still, she managed to find the softest fur and wrap her son in it, sparing her husband of her failure. He would not see Pinasut; this was Asivaq's burden alone to carry.

This was her fault; the spirits were angry with her after everything she’d done wrong.

This is not our home, she croaked, speaking for the first time since her son had died. There is evil here, and we must protect our children and find a new home. She refused to bury her son here.