Totoka River talgaktuk

Tags due to reference, but open to anyone that might intercept them from MG!

The sudden, wonderful arrival of @Sakhmet had shifted the earth beneath Kigipigak's feet. His worries remained plentiful yet distant to the featherlight feeling that the girl brought out of him.

The snow was no longer a hindrance but a play-thing once again; the billowing coastal wind was sharp and chilling yet he was warmed by the mere sight of her alongside him; together they went, spending long periods of time entertained by wheeling sea birds or the peace of winter's silence, shared together.

By the time they crossed the Totoka's frozen shallows, they'd shared everything they could with one-another. Kigipigak had told her of his hunt across the wilderness, the boy who had seen her roaming (as far as he knew that was the truth), the decision by Moonglow to make winter camps, and of course the illness in the herds of the taiga.

The only pieces he held back were still raw within him: Tulimaq's arrival in the hunter's camp, his challenge to @Shikoba, and Kigipigak's argument with @Kukutux. He did not want to burden her with these things; better to focus on the good fortune they now shared and the potential for a future, which until now, Kigipigak had been afraid to face.

The mountains had come in to view by now. The world was white and silent except the sound of the two of them moving together, laughing, breathing, heart-beating, as if nothing else existed.

getting her in here but still would love for anybody else to pop in :)

She listened dutifully to it all. Every story she absorbed, oohed and aahed. How hectic life had been for him in her absence.

Admittedly she did not have nearly as interesting of tales to share. Only the sights she had seen, which had not been all too different anyway. It did not matter much, though. They had ground to cover and snow to romp in when the travel grew stale. She existed as his shadow in the snow. Near to his side and mimicked almost every motion he made.

It did not matter that soon they would have to face Moonglow and they would have to decide what to do.

For now, she found bliss in this travel with him. Enough to attempt to momentarily halt their travels with a bump to his shoulder.

Perhaps she could wrangle him into a snowdrift for play that was a bit more along the lines of roughhousing.

Kigipigak was more than happy to talk of himself. Stories were one way that his people kept themselves united, which wasn't so strange, as other northern families did this too - and others, most likely. The oral tradition was something he was well built for.

This was true also for the physicality that Sakhmet displayed; she sought to grab at him and toss him in a snowbank, which had Kigipigak laughing as he romped. He feigned weakness so that she could handle him better, forcing him towards a trough of deep snow, and then at the last moment he snared her with a limb of his own, and down they went together.

The rough manner of Sakhmet's comraderie brought out the mirthful boy locked within Kigipigak, that which he thought he'd outgrown with her absence. As he emerged from the snow with a hearty laugh he then plunged towards her, kicking up white flakes which so closely matched the rest of his pale coat.

She was an easy target for her own darkness, but was smaller and much more crafty, able to snake around his larger figure in a way that left him envious; Kigipigak's laughter boomed up through the trees.

A soft sound of trilled delight escaped her as she was pulled down too.

Her coat powdered now to look leagues lighter on the top than it truly was. Not that much of the snow held on when she moved to continue her romp with him once more.

As he plunged for her, she made no move to fully dodge his actions. Only turned so she might greet his body against her side and not her front. She had no desire to be elusive in those moments, to flee from his pursuit as easy as it would have been.

Why would she wish to anyway? His laughter warmed her heart and if she could prompt it further by remaining in their tussle, she wished to do so.

For the time being, all the world was snow and ice, and they were the last two alive within the chill of it.

As Sakhmet sank alongside him, Kigipigak moved so that he would not slip or crush her, and rose from the gulley of snow cleansed of his wounds — or so it appeared, as he was plastered nose-to-tail with fresh powder.

He shook off almost immediately. Better not to chance the snowmelt penetrating his furs, freezing his skin. White went everywhere, and as he laughed again, he slid forward and tumbled in to the snow, light as a feather.

This time, she would pounce away from him. Although it was not any sort of sprint or attempt to get away fully.

It was simply a jump a bit further away from him. A dusting of snow fluttered up as she disrupted it, even more flew free when she shook her coat out of the fine powder.

She wondered, briefly, if Moonglow might come upon them here. What Moonglow would make of her, what Moonglow would think of her sudden arrival and attachment to Kigipigak.

It was not yet time to worry about that, she assured herself. A bridge to cross whenever they found themselves there.

He did not want this day to end, the same way he had wished the night would go on forever, sleepless, within the Sound the day they reunited. Every moment was lost to the childish abandon of their connection. Was it love? Who could say. For all their history together, Kigipigak and Sakhmet had yet to delve very deeply through their feelings for one-another. They were together, which for now was enough for the man.

He tumbled and jostled with her, as if she were a brother or a sister. He rolled in the snow and feined a lunge one way, or another, until he lost his footing on some ice and rolled away from her - in to a tree trunk sitting idle by the riverside.

The konk of his head was met with a laugh; but there also came the sound of something sharp and tinny, like glass breaking, and a second smaller sound of something falling to catch in the snow.

Kigipigak was a bit addled from the bonk to his head but peered at the snow anyway, seeing something round and clear at the same time, not understanding that he lay against an apple tree.

Kigipigak!

Blurted when he took his tumble against the tree, a thunk the sound of his brace against it. She could not help but laugh too but there was certainly some concern painted against the paler of her facial features.

She took large steps to approach his position against the tree, trudging up some of the snow, but she saw the orb too.

Oh...what's that? She peered at it before she glanced to Kigipigak. Then the tree, ghostly orbs noticed one or two more in the branches. Although her familiarity with fruit trees was limited and thus she struggled to grasp what might have once been in place of the round, icy orbs.

It was beautiful, whatever it was.

As Sakhmet came upon it, the orb reflected her colors. It became a deep ruby-red, reflecting the white of her eyes briefly. Kigipigak swooned.

Kigipigak did not feel terrible after hitting the tree. He was more interested in the ice as well, and moved to inspect it. He sniffed at it and found no trace of anything except the dull cold of winter.

It came from there, Then he looked up. Kigipigak did not know it was an apple tree. It was not the season for apples, and the tree was coated in ice. There were numerous other orbs hanging suspended from thin branches though.

Ghost fruit? He huffed a little laugh, staring up at these many odd things.

Ghost fruit!

Sakhmet wondered if there might be something worthwhile inside. Instead it seemed...like nothing more than ice. A reflective orb that shimmed with crimson and pale tones.

I wonder if they...taste different? Like whatever fruit they're the ghost of.

Then tentatively she tried to grasp the orb. Soft with her hold as she attempted to lick it, to find a taste. Unfortunately there was nothing too awe shocking about it. It tasted just as the cold river might, as the snow might.

Which only prompted her to nose it in his direction.

He shrugged. She moved to lick at the surface of the orb, and by her expression there was nothing interesting about the taste. When she nosed it towards him Kigipigak sniffed the surface. Her tongue had left a slight imprint - a warm thing against a cold thing.

The man reached out and tried to grasp the fruit with his teeth. He was not delicate about it, and so his teeth splintered the ice immediately. The same tinny sound came from the apple as it came apart upon his tongue, with thin pieces melting immediately.

He licked his lips and swallowed, then sniffed the ground where the apple had been, huffing outward through his nose at the last moment and spraying the top layer of snow out from underneath.

Poof, gone. Shattered beneath the strength of his teeth and jaws.

Although she could only focus on that for a moment before snow was kicked up from his heavy breath. A flutter of it in the air, a familiar sight by now.

Do you like the winter more? She wondered softly, as her eyes went from where the orb had once been to the ones that still hung in the tree.

The girl's voice was soft and low. It carried because there was no other noise to contend with. Kigipigak's ears twitched as he heard the question - though he wasn't sure if she spoke to him or to the apple tree.

It is what I am most familiar with. He answered.

It was only outside of Unnuakvik that Kigipigak had learned of true seasons. In his home village there were many days of light, equally many days of darkness, and either way it was very cold.

He studied the arch of her neck as she looked up at the tree.

I think I could learn to love summer. That was when they had first met.

could fade here but we also don't have to <3

I bet there are cool places to visit in the summer. Places with lots of shade and water... She trailed off in thought as her moon gaze once more returned to Kigipigak.

Then she sought to close whatever little distance was between them and touch her nose to his temple. As if she might be able to smell any damage from the thud against the tree, or feel a bump that might emerge.

It might have also been an excuse to make contact with him again. Even if they had all the time in the world for that now.

They could travel, see the world. His eyes were only for Sakhmet now and he doubted they would come across anything that would be a better sight to him; but he liked the idea of visiting places with her, and smiled.

She moved in close again. The apple was gone, the others resting upon the tree above them, barely moving as she nested against him. Her nose was cold upon his face — and Sakhmet, so close, so warm, brought out an urge in Kigipigak he had never felt before.

He caressed her cheek carefully, as if to steal a tiny kiss.

She did not have words for the flutter in her stomach and the shiver down her spine when he was at her cheek.

But she didn't need words. Instead she leaned into the touch and returned it when she could. A warmth in her for it that she hoped spread to him. There was some unspoken, unknown need to push for more but she did not. Still slightly subdued and at peace with this little affection between them.

If there was a next step to this dance, nobody had taught Kigipigak. His youth had been characterized by rough play with men, dangerous and difficult lessons from the elder warriors of his village, and very rarely anything that resembled affection.

He was glad that it was reciprocated. Equally so, Kigipigak felt a wave of unease sweep through him. It was the sort of thing a boy might feel after their first dalliance with the opposite sex — and even if he had wanted to do more, to explore more, to know Sakhmet in some deeper way, he felt somehow blocked by this awkward little feeling.

Better to sit together and be at peace, he decided. They could linger here for a while and then if hunger struck, or another need, they could unfurl and begin to roam again; but for now, Kigipigak had found beneath the apple tree was enough.

Fading!