Ouroboros Spine renaissance

Anger drove her less now.

It had mellowed, into something past grief but beyond the mind numbing rage. She kept to her ulaq within the village now, having moved her children there and away from the repose.

She still burned with a need for revenge, for the shadow cast by that much hated caribou man, but she was focused now. She could see the age on her mother, in the way she moved without the smoothness she had remembered from her youth. Grief had aged her mother beyond her years.

Moonwoman was closer to Moondoe than ever. 

She was resting at the lakeshore today, a soft fawn pelt across her shoulders. Her mother’s voice rose from the village, and she picked herself up in a hurry, moving at a swift jog. Her son! Her son was home!

Ipiktok!

He looked like she did, and she was grateful every time she saw him.