The Heartwood Slowly tears you apart

He did not want to delve in to his own history. No doubt if Solharr thought to ask Kukutux about it, she would have opinions; same could be said about Callyope. Kigipigak would not mention the bad blood between them, or speak out against the moon villages, now that he had returned to the Wilds. It served no purpose. They cared for his children while he hunted for the one he had lost, and he had to be grateful for that.

I thought the same, he said in regards to Callyope deserving the best, but that was all he mentioned. He would not name Ariadne by her Nuiruk name, or her Tartok name; it hurt him too much to think of her now, as the image of her in the water was all that came to mind.

I wish you well, then. The work was done to a point Kigipigak could be pleased with himself, and the meat was arranged now in a way that Solharr could carry it home. He thought of lingering—to guard the carcass against scavengers—but, perhaps that was overstepping too. The man was capable, and Kigipigak had other things to work on that would take him away from here.