Cedar Sweep nigisuk

Sadness stirred the village like deep waters, and Stratos worked to keep his head above the waves, so he could help Asivaq do the same. 

But truly, he hadn't felt this kind of grief since he'd lost Ani. Even then, there had always been some small hope she'd come back, or he'd find her alive. But this - this was different. Final. They had sung the mourning songs. Buried the boy six feet down. The other children had already filled the space he'd left behind. He was gone. That was that. And the others lived, and that was that. 

Stratos neared the ulaq with a belly full of meat, and with another little guy waiting at the den mouth to greet him. Sisamat. He wished his sister had pushed back against this one tradition of Tartok to give the children the names of the moon people. To grow up only knowing your name as a number! But he hadn't fought her. Only told himself that if he found a mate this season and had pups by her, he'd do what he had to to ensure his children had proper names from the start.

Hello, Sisa, he said with a yawn, just before Stratos emptied the food on the ground. As his nephew sniffed at it, Stratos eased himself down to get on Sisamat's level, tail scattering the rocks and dust left by the melted snow. Gourmet dining, for one of my favourite nephews. Fish with the fragrance of fruit. Better eat up before your siblings come.