Ouroboros Spine winterberry

Romantic love was cryptic to the young hunter. In his experience, a marriage was architectured. Matters of the heart came second, if given the chance to grow. Perhaps passion between partners would never develop… but at least the union could exist without it. So, he could understand his Grandmother’s train of thought… or at least follow it.

“Hmmm,” the deep thinking sound was his only reply. Ipiktok did not feel he had anything more to add.

At his Grandmother’s request, he took the plush hide by the tooth and carefully draped it accross her. To him, respect of your elders was highest upon the totem pole of morals.

“I will make way to the forest village in the morning,” he assured her. The young man made a gesture with his muzzle as if to say, is there anything more I can do for you?

And then… a fleeting thought. “Grandmother, I wish to learn more about our customs. Our bloodline and ancestors,” he announced. “Perhaps when I return, we can walk together again,” he smiled affectionately.