Ouroboros Spine but what about your quiet treason?

the dancing lights.

twice ariadne had said this, as if kukutux too should not pause, that she should only go on with their words as if — as if,

and because ariadne had gone away before she had learned the way of spirit names, it was unlikely that the little one had been bound to the dancing lights before his soul lifted from his body.

by the ways of the sunshine people, he was lost.

a crying wail built in her throat, but she pushed it down; caught a sob, looked to the children with misted eyes which already loved them all. atausiq, cloaked in bark-hues; goldbrown malguk with bright eyes; and the granite boy sisamat.

ariadne spoke of herself as a poor leader and the words of greeting died on the tongue of moonmother. who had taught her such offal? slowly as she recounted all the ways in which her daughter had not been kept safe, kukutux found she was unable to even glance in the direction of silent kigipigak, for fear the hatred would leap from her gaze and spoil this return.

this man had already abandoned so much and built nothing, who had taken her daughter far from her people, a far trek from the sight of her! this man who could not handle his role as husband and protector without her own son at his side; this man had let her grandchild die, and all for his own spite of her, and this she believed so fiercely that it became a talisman to kukutux.

vairë came then, and spoke softly, but such a storm was upon the face of the moondoe that the duck felt pained to see it. 

"i welcome you home." oh! past the rage and the pain and the seething ire that wanted to dance upon her limbs, kukutux pushed, shoved. kigipigak was to blame for all this; she would ruin no more of her time with ariadne over him. irritated though she was at the — were they naming-words? counting-sounds? — foreign names of her grandchildren, enraged that their unnecessary distance from the moon villages had cost them a baby, disgusted by how threats had not been kept from her daughter — on and on, until she shut the thoughts down and harshly away.

surely he too grieved. surely he too had been punished enough for his chosen path. she only wished that ariadne had been spared the pain of such learning. 

her daughter had come back. her three children were whole. healing could be had. the family opened its love once more and it was as all must be. 

"there are things to be said, daughter, but not now. not until you have slept many hours and filled your bellies. come," and kukutux still did not look at the man she had once called winterhawk. "come to the ulax. i will tell you all that has gone on."

and then the family must speak, or moreover, the sisters must speak. mending now could be done.

the duck's mind settled upon the thorn of kigipigak. she was tired of tears shed on behalf of his ambition, unrelenting in her cold refusal to contemplate his own agonies. she remembered the brokenness of sakhmet and the anger of kivaluk, and was glad suddenly that the young hunter and his wife had left. 

what stopped the duck from allowing herself to soften was the burnt-black memory of how he had flaunted himself and her girl together in the woodland, how he had done so on purpose. his arrogance had cost her daughter a great deal. moonmother meant to see that repaid.

tucking close to the side of ariadne, kukutux looked down at the children. "i greet you, little ones. your mother is my daughter. this means that i am your anânsiak."