Bramblepoint aŋayukłiq

baby siblings. everything before that goes heard, acknowledged with a small tip of his chin but a sentiment unreturned.

kivaluk's nervous system goes into some sort of shut down, still thinking the union between ariadne — whom he had naturally seen as a sibling due to his closeness with kukutux and her brief marriage to his mother — and his father was wrong. the fact that children had came out of it feels even more wrong. settles on his tongue like battery acid.

more baby siblings to be abandoned — and he did not solely blame kigipigak for that. sakhmet had abandoned and failed galana. except this time, he did not know them.

and perhaps, he thinks, it is for the best. his heart still ached for galana, even now; thinking that her aches and abandonment wounds go deeper than even he knows.

two sisters and a brother.

his stomach twists, as if the earth begun crumbling unsteadily beneath his paws. how strange that kigipigak's litter mirrors his own.

two daughters and a son.

this news is followed by the one that he and ariadne were now divorced. his tail twitches against his haunches, unsure how he is meant to feel about that tidbit of information. glad, perhaps that his sister had wisened up? if he was meant to feel pity: he doesn't. not truly, and there was no point in him pretending to. my condolences, i suppose. the words are offered because it is a polite thing to do but they hold fast to the same chill of the jagged titan spine that had raised him.

kivaluk did not know if the tattered bridge that lay over the chasm between them could ever truly be repaired. there were obvious attempts: it could be crossed but the bridge was as treacherous as the raging river and deadly rock formations at it's bottom.

maybe it was the tartok in him that made him so utterly unforgiving; bullheaded and as cold and stoic as the grim reaper.

you can make your home where ever you wish to. i cannot stop you any more than you need my permission. kivaluk speaks, finally deigning to use more than four words.

a draw of breath is given, then. but if you absolutely want it, then you have my permission. kivaluk could grant him this much, he figures. a small boon. another repaired plank of the tattered, decrepit bridge between them. another, smaller boon is offered when kivaluk speaks, you are a grandfather. in a strange twist of fate, to two granddaughters and a grandson.