Larksong Grotto sleeping dog beside you

rala nodded, then, and with the way that sivaak said it, she determined that perhaps family was not something that the older huntress wished to discuss. lost to sea and snow, she said, and polar-cub felt a distant pang within her heart. a memory of their chief.

do you really think that? she tested, tone a murmur, brows drawn together as if disbelieving. to think that family was weakness was unthinkable to those of the north, of muskox grounds. family was the only way one was to survive ; units were the most important parts of life. bringing forth children to continue generations in the face of so much death, of loss. to rala, it was beautiful. she wanted to live up to those expectations.

no, the woman said, then. oh, maybe. but no. my brother is chief now. anaanak might follow, but rest of them have too many duties. having whelps of their own, now. tradition is important to them - to us. the wolves of immuksiugasuktiit mated for life ; that was why finding an acceptable husband was so important to the snowwoman. dark man had attempted courtship, only to be unsuccesful.

now that her mother, waterdiver woman, was without a partner, she may follow her daughter here in search of another. although polar-cub doubted it. either snowpelt or crowfeather man would be interested in the likes of nanuralaaq's mother.

skilled woman. seal hunter.

she looked back to sivaak. your traditions? what are they like?