Kildeer Rest only the beginning

Being away from the spine was not easy for Sialuk. It had been only her second home, and this was the furthest she could remember being away from the mountain she had been born on. Had Yuelong been further? She had never made her trip to see the Redhawks. Her energy had been low for several months, for reasons she could not explain. She had spent her time in the background, trying to make sense of the bones that Sixsix had provided her with.

Even her younger sisters felt distant.

She could not say where this unease and exhaustion came from, only that it had burrowed its way under her skin and seemingly refused to budge from there. Now the days grew darker, longer, and she yearned for the warmth of the summer sun.

A sigh filtered through her teeth.

She sat on one of the larger rocks that scattered themselves throughout this open area. Sialuk wondered what would become of her if she never fled this funk of hers.

Kigipigak was returning from a patrol of one of the camps. He headed for a second, where he knew Sialuk had been scouring the landscape, and was glad when he spotted her familiar figure a relatively short distance from him.

As he drew closer he noticed the usual calm confidence that Sialuk carried was not so prominent. She looked to be sulking, which he presumed was because she was a woman unused to excessive travel and left it at that.

She had settled for a rest by the time Kigipigak had found his way to her side, laying on a rock that protruded from the soil. He gave a small boof of an alert, not wanting to surprise her.

Kigipigak. A wolf who had been with them for some time, but he was not well known to Sialuk. She had only herself to blame for her lack of knowledge about him. Now she could not remember what they had spoken of during their last meaningful conversation. Sialuk frowned for a moment, then neutralized her expression.

Are you well, Kigipigak? she asked.

She called out to him. He smiled in his usual way, his tail wagging a few times before he settled beside her, sitting off to one side and not too close, respectfully.

I am! It is a fine time to travel. We are fortunate. Any later and their exit from the village would've been plagued with snowfall, he thought. It could have been very dangerous.

He was aware of her sour expression and a certain weight upon her shoulders which had not been there within the village, and that led him to promptly ask: You do not seem so light today, Sialuk. Is something... the matter? Kigipigak was not the type to engage in heart-to-hearts, making this new - and awkward - territory.

"A fine time to travel." Sialuk wished she could feel the same. She knew others had already noticed. It was difficult for her to find pleasure in much of anything. Whenever she tried, her feelings fell flat. Even sunny days felt overcast with a sense of never-ending dread. Occasionally, she could feel the warmth, but it would vanish just as quickly as it had come.

I... no, it is nothing. She did not know him well enough to divulge how she was feeling. The numbness that encompassed her was too hard to describe, and she did not wish to show weakness to her pack mates.

If something was bothering her, she was not willing to share the details. Kigipigak was thankful for that. His brow knit temporarily with concern before he smiled, looking to the surroundings, to the brilliant day that surrounded them.

I am sure this place would make a fine camp. The caribou have been sighted further west, so another group has gone that way, to the valley. Between the two of us and Duskfire village the hunting should be easy!

Perhaps she only worried over their potential success, and Kigipigak could ease her mind.

Hunting was not Sialuk's specialty, though she would help where she could. She could heal wounds that they might endure during their hunts, and she could chase. Sialuk thought back to the time when she had been a part of the hunt with Raimo. He had made all the wrong choices, and she wondered where he was now.

Sialuk blinked, returning her attention to Kigipigak. If she could focus on him, maybe it would help her forget her own feelings.

Have you spoken much with the wolves of Duskfire? she asked. She did not know much about them, but perhaps Kigipigak had more dealings with them. Maybe listening to him talk about them would quiet her mind.

They marched together through the snow for a bit. Sialuk appeared weighed down by something more assuredly, but aside from that initial question about it, Kigipigak remained silent.

She had left her village behind for the trip to these hunting camps, which was likely difficult for her. The wolves of Moonglow did not travel as avidly as those of Tartok.

Her question earned a turn of one ear, and a nod.

I know of one, a woman named Lane. I hunted with her once - before my injuries and my stay with your village. We chased boar. Kigipigak had made sure to give the bulk of the meat to the then-pregnant woman, and offered to help her transport it to the glacier, but had split off from her soon after instead.

Lane is a good hunter. She was almost a mother then, but still could hunt and fight the prey well. The boar was a giant beast of a thing but not once did I worry.

The one named Lane was not a woman Sialuk could recall. If they had met, it had been brief. It sounded as though Lane was much more of a hunter than a sister, and Sialuk thought fondly of Shikoba among their ranks. Sialuk did not think Shikoba was a mother, but she sensed that she would make strong children when she found a suitor to her liking. Sialuk wondered if Kigipigak was suitor to anyone.

Is this the kind of woman you would like to become ugi to? she asked. Surely anaa had plans for Kigipigak, but Sialuk was curious as well. She did occasionally think of what she wished in her prospects, but usually the waves of nothingness kept those thoughts away.

Ugi. Of course it would be Sialuk's first thought for Kigipigak, she was her mother's daughter.

It stunned the man at first; he had not thought of Lane in that way, and the idea did not sit well with him. He could not see Lane as his own wife or the mother of his own children, but he was not ready for such a thing, so perhaps that was why.

If I was to make the choice, perhaps, yes. He spoke the truth, but there came a pregnant pause and a subtle tension as he tried to put his thoughts in to words, which was not something Kigipigak had practice doing.

My people are different from Moonglow, from you, from your mother. He wondered if she'd taken notice. It is the matriarch of the village who makes the decision for herself, each year. The men fight for her attention, and to prove their worth to her, so that the strong are rewarded with children.

Kigipigak watched her.

If Lane were issumatar of her village, and I one of the hunters there, perhaps I would fight for her. His face felt warm. These were things men did not talk about except to gloat among fellow men of conquests. It felt wrong somehow to talk of this with Sialuk.

Kigipigak spoke, saying that Lane would be his pick, but that it was not his duty to do so. Instead, he explained how the women chose their men. Was this not how it was done in Moonglow, too? Kukutux had made her decision with Aiolos, though Sialuk knew her relationship with her own taataa had been different. But in a way, they had chosen each other in the end, and this was how Sialuk and her brataa had come to be.

Sialuk soaked in his telling of the story, noting how his voice changed when he spoke of fighting for Lane. It was similar to the voice her mother sometimes made when speaking of Aiolos or—in times past—taataa. The raindrop had not known this voice for herself, though she had caught a glimmer of it when thinking of Foxfur.

A bold question tickled her throat.

If I were issumatar, would you fight for me?

Sialuk's question further surprised Kigipigak.

He could not imagine the girl taking over Moonglow in such a way, and the insinuation within the question — that it would perhaps make her available in a way that was acceptable to Kigipigak — emptied his head of all other thoughts.

She waited for an answer. His mouth felt dry. His face again warm in a way he did not like. I— Kigipigak stumbled verbally, for once in his life tongue-tied.

That is the custom — yes. Would he, though? He did not know.
It did not seem to matter either, as Moonglow held different customs. Kigipigak could see Sialuk as the next moon-woman like her mother perhaps, one day, but not an issumatar — but he did not know how to say this.

After another lengthy pause he blurts, Would you want me to?

Once it had left her mouth, Sialuk realized she was not sure what to do with the answer. Her heart beat strongly in her chest, the same way it did before she pounced an animal.

It was the custom.

Sialuk felt herself deflate at his answer. She was not certain what she wished to hear, but this had not been it. She was, she felt, never to be seen as something to fight for. There was no reason for her to think otherwise.

You would not win, she replied curtly, feeling heat build in her chest. He did not even know if he wanted to fight for her. She did not think that would make him a very good when it came time to battle.

You would do better to fight for Lane. Sialuk felt jealousy wrap around her heart, even though she did not hold warm thoughts for Kigipigak the same way she thought he did for Lane.

The raindrop lashed her tail, feeling insulted by the exchange, but knowing she had no right to be.

His breath caught in his throat. She looked bothered by his answer, but it was quick and Kigipigak was already too distracted by the odd feeling welling up within himself, this awkwardness, to really take it in.

He did what came naturally and tried to shrug it all off.

I have fought many men before! Even my father. If I wanted to win, I would! He boasted, hoping that his revived good humor might distract from the lackluster answer he had given, or hide this boyish inadequacy that she had created inside him.

You would do better to fight for Lane. She said with a lash of her tail, proving to Kigipigak that something he said had missed the mark. He did not know how to fix this — if it even was something to fix.

She is Duskfire, I am Moonglow. As if this solved it all; Kigipigak could not fight for an issumatar except his own, and for now that meant Kukutux, who was more a mother figure to him anyway.

He grit his teeth and fell quiet, striding alongside the girl for a few minutes, thinking. Besides, Tartok does not rule here. My people's ways, they are meaningless. I can focus my energy on fighting the caribou instead! He smiled, but it was strained.

She pierced her eyes into him, as her mother had done to her on occasion when she had acted out of line.

Ways only meaningless if you make them, she said. It did not matter if Lane was Duskfire and Kigipigak was Moonglow. Sialuk knew his heart was with her, even if his loyalty, body, and mind were here. If Tartok had no hold on him, then what was to stop him from going to Duskfire, where Lane dwelled?

Perhaps you go to Duskfire and fight for Lane in the way of your people. Bring them the caribou, too.

The dimness in her spirit was kept at bay, for now. Focusing on this made it easy to push it away. Push her own damaged spirit away at the expense of Kigipigak.

She was right. Kigipigak was so thoroughly loyal to the Tartok way of life that, if he wanted to, he could find Lane and fight for her, and make her his issumatar. He had been given the chance to be a father before — in Rivenwood — but it had not appealed then, and he was uncertain about now.

The way she stared him down was unsettling. He did not want to cause her distress. Neither did he think he deserved such strong words and intensity from Sialuk. She had asked him questions and he had answered — it was not his fault if she found the answers unsuitable.

The way she spoke now, Kigipigak did not like it.

We are to share the caribou. He stared blankly back at her, unsure of what else to say but the obvious. We will hunt together and celebrate. Is that not why moon-woman led us to the valley? It was not a question that required an answer.

He only meant to remind her of their purpose. Somehow during this conversation, they had both forgotten themselves. If she was angry, and she seemed so to Kigipigak, he wanted to make things right so they did not part with turmoil between them - but he was not empathetic enough to recognize the flux of a woman's heart.

Why had Kukutux led them here? Sialuk struggled to understand. Was the hunting at the spine not good enough? Was there some ulterior motive? Her (unasked) questions had not been answered, but she felt threatened when Kigipigak asked them.

You think anaa led us here only to hunt? Sialuk asked. Her thoughts are far beyond hunting, Kigipigak. Even the raindrop was smart enough to know this without asking. Kukutux was a matchmaker first and a moonwoman second. Sialuk had not realized until now the extent of anaa's plan here. With Kigipigak's "admission" of attraction to Lane, it was perfectly clear to Sialuk.

No, Kigipigak had no ideas toward Kukutux' ulterior motives.

Such was the difference between a woman's circle to a man's hunting camp. He knew only what he was meant to: how to chase, kill, provide. How to war if the need arose.

Somehow this lack of understanding sparked more ire within Sialuk. Kigipigak huffed softly, almost a laugh, but he felt no mirth with how the conversation seemed to spoil.

I am only here to hunt. He clarified. The warmth in his face had vanished by now. The knot Sialuk had created in his belly had eased, as he remembered his own purpose. He was a man meant to provide and defend — whatever else, that was Kukutux' domain.

What he was here to do and what anaa would have him do were two different things. How did he not see? Perhaps hunters were all like this. Oblivious to the ways the world worked beneath them. Had taataa been like this? Aiolos? Perhaps this was why Kukutux was able to make things as they were. Perhaps this was why she moved them here.

Anaa had made for Kigipigak not to choose her, and so he had not. He had chosen Lane, by way of anaa's doings. It was not even that Sialuk wished for Kigipigak for herself—only that he would fight for her the same way he would fight for Lane. But anaa had not made it so.

Then go hunt, Sialuk said brusquely. She did not need the company of a hunter who would not fight for her.

Feeling that their conversation had been reduced to nothing, and pleased enough to be dismissed to clearer air, Kigipigak said nothing as he listened to her order.

She was not moon-woman but she was still greater than he, and Kigipigak was obedient to structure. He was obedient to his role within the village and, in a broader sense, the world, because that was what he had been taught.

Sialuk looked tired; she had seemed weighted before, but now it was like something had shifted, and she would go away angry with him. Kigipigak was not wise enough to know what to do, and so he would merely go — to work, as was expected of him.

Perhaps in time he would come to understand.