Bramblepoint aŋayukłiq

she is. kivaluk could sing his wife's praises all day and night long to whomever would listen: the sun and the moon if no living thing was there to hear him wax poetry about the love of his life; but he settles for simple words that barely scratch the surface.

despite being resolved to offer this boon, to make his home neutral ground, a swell of uncertainty creeps within him like a sudden twist of the tide. kivaluk cannot say if this is a good idea or an absolutely terrible one. from a practical and tactical standpoint: his father was a good hunter and that was the whole reason he'd been elevated to raven to recruit and accept those with hunting potential and skills.

from a personal standpoint, kivaluk isn't so sure he's ready to share his home with his estranged father. but he scrubs his personal feelings and long, labored past wounds of believed wrongs out of the way: they have no place here. not anymore, not when he was looking at things from the perspective of a leader.

no, kivaluk drawls on a heavy exhale. i am a leader, raven among the people of brecheliant. and it still feels weird to say, still gives him a bit of an out of body experience, but so long as he sticks to what he knows and lets the weaving of diplomacy to maia ( at the very least until he was trained how to navigate the slippery slopes of court intrigue and delicacies ), he will be fine.