Moonspear uuliutik ◯

Tiuttuk tucked herself into her grandmother’s waiting embrace, swallowing against the lump in her throat. She really hadn’t meant to drag down the room, proverbially speaking, but she was so grateful Kukutux was here where her mother and father couldn’t be.

When questioned about her vision for the mountain, Treepie immediately answered in her mind: I wish anaa and taataa stayed here and gave me too many brothers and sisters to count! I would help rear them and prepare myself to become a mother next year…

But she didn’t voice this wish, as it couldn’t come to pass. Her heart mourned as she nudged it aside, trying to make room for a different sort of vision. It was painful, that gap inside her, and nothing would fill it just right. But Treepie was determined to give her grandmother’s query the sincere consideration it deserved and come up with an answer—for herself as much as for her grandmother.

I want to learn all I can from my elders, she said in the common tongue, pulling back to look into that pale face, and become the best leader I can be for my village. Then I want to build a family here someday, with wolves like Alaric and Tikaani here to be my support system. And I’ll be theirs too, of course. I want to fill this village with babies, she admitted with a wet little laugh.

Saying it aloud seemed to hearten her a little bit. Had her grandmother known it would? Treepie gave Kukutux a wobbly smile, grateful for her presence and wisdom. An urge to cling to the matriarch came over her. She pressed her face into a pale, slender shoulder, hiding it for a moment and letting Kukutux’s duck-soft fur dry her tears.

When she stepped back and sat up, her face was dry again. Her spine straightened as she deftly changed the topic, making small talk now about the furs she had been tending earlier, mentioning the one she refused to clean. Treepie knew it would make her anaa happy to know that she and Kukutux were filling her ulaq with food, stories and maternal love.