Barrow Fields and that is how they grow

kivaluk draws in a breath, brow furrowing as he looks up from the mound to his mother. words fumble around in his brain, mostly revolving around i don't know but they never make it past the opening and closing of his mouth; gaping like a fish out of water. well, starts kivaluk, struggling to come up with a valid reason as to how he knows it. he can't and it shows.

uhm. no. he admits. should i dig it? he asks, seeking permission. it's not his mound, after all and it feels almost sinful to dig at them.