Ouroboros Spine siunnurak ⌽

Warmth radiated from Kukutux's kiss. Asivaq reveled in it, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, feeling like she was breathing for the first time in months. She reveled in it. I am thankful, too, she replied after a beat, opening her eyes and blinking against the light as she picked her words carefully. Not only for Her, but for you, too. The implication was hidden between the lines; she knew Kukutux could've turned them away. Thank you for letting us come home, anaa. She kissed her cheek.

She felt all was right in the world. She had her family, her family, and children together in the same place. There had been no disputes so far; what more could she want?

When asked about Little Fox, her heart began to hurt, but she knew this conversation was necessary. She nodded, pain spreading throughout her body—how she wanted to cry!—and bowed her head. Yes, I sang, she replied. He is safe—I did everything we did when we sang together. This, at least, she was confident about.

Another wave of emotion overcame Asivaq when Kukutux expressed her wish for her daughter to rest and asked if they could hold a ceremony for Little Fox. She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and nodding. Please, she said, a whine hissing at the end of her words. Just ... let me know how I can help. She would contribute what she could to the event. She thought briefly of Kigipigak and his people's beliefs regarding the dead but quickly discarded it; she needed this.