Broken Boulder a perfect circle

yeets ipi across the map

Ipiktok traveled for many days and many nights.

He walked through vast valleys, across rushing rivers, and atop jagged peaks.

He slept beneath the open sky.

Sang to the moon.

He hunted the dancing elk.

The terrain became wild, unlike the village in which he was raised.

Every day and night he asked himself. When will I know?

One evening, Ipiktok happened upon a large boulder, perfectly celft in two as if a giant had rent it apart.

And he knew.

Ipiktok did as his Anaanatsiaq instructed.

He made a fresh kill. Painted the stone and earth with its blood. And then, when the Moon was at its zenith, he consumed the medicine-plant.

Ipiktok laid prone upon half of the great boulder with starlight on his back. He felt the presence of many spirits and soon the forest was alight with colors he had never known before.

A great sense of awe filled the young wolf. Ipiktok’s mind expanded and he dug his claws into the rock as if to hold on for the ride. Yesterday became tomorrow. Old became young. Time became infinite. Meaningless. Ipiktok was filled with a sense that All was pre-ordained and the seeds of every living thing sewed themselves into a perfect circle-shaped design. His body was only a vessel. The spirit was forever.

His third eye opened.

Ipiktok listened... and understood.