Ouroboros Spine poetry

She had been gone, briefly.

She had returned as soon as she could though and although she tried to come slinking back in during the shadows of the first sunrise, she knew they would know. There would be little way for anaa and taataa to not know.

This was her first taste of defeat.

She laid in the dawn shade of Three Sisters.

mojag had gone.

kukutux returned from looking.

they should not have allowed inutsuk inside.

they should have sent him away.

she found callyope and kissed her daughter's ear. "he has gone on a hunt for the spirit of his father."

Anaa.

She did not need to look to know, so her eyes remained closed as she was kissed.

Her heart was full of hurt and Callyope could only imagine how it bled out around her with her rich emotions. Her mother would know these things. Her mother knew all things.

Why?

And just as it is her first taste of defeat, it is her first taste of something selfish.

Does he not know I will miss his spirit?

kukutux clucked her tongue. "because mojag is a boy. and boys become hunters. they have many spirit-walks to make."

especially one who had lost his father.

"would you like to come to my altar?" her voice was quiet. it was tucked high in the snowy part of the spine. but she thought callyope was old enough to climb.

Her eyes were already closed but she squeezed them tighter.

She knew boys became hunters, this was something she had discussed with Mo! He was to hunt, she was to make furs for him.

Her heart was heavier than it had ever been. She remembered the words of bear-face most of all now.

"Once a male gets to be almost 2. They leave."

Yet Mo was no such age! Now he was off, a spirt-walk.

She stirred, standing and moving to press along her mother's side.

Yes. And she would grow forlorn once more, content to follow in silence unless spoken to.

it was rough going.

she helped callyope where able, but kukutux intended for the girl to do a good deal of her own climbing.

the altar was carefully arranged bones with pieces of caribou ivory in the center. and there was also a sacred chunk of seal-tooth, stained worshipfully with red ochre.

kukutux motioned callyope to sit across from her. "do you know the formal greeting? 'this girl asks the spirits to listen?' say them, soft-snow."

She was tired.

She was worn.

Physically and emotionally. These days had trained her of much of her glow. Surely it would return...one day. For now it stayed hidden beneath suneyes.

She sat across from her mother, eyes briefly wide with the wonder of the things before her, but her mother spoke as moonwoman.

"Say them, soft-snow."

She felt breathless for a moment, but finally found her voice.

This girl asks the spirits to listen.

callyope seemed weary.

kukutux feared that the same bad spirit which had drained sialuk would come to her daughter.

she considered.

samani spoke.

"this girl asks to know where the boy mojag has made his path," she urged, and when her daughter spoke too, moonwoman closed her eyes. "hold the ivory, my child."

she began a chant.

now the spirits would come.

She followed every direction she was given.

Her soul felt torn between two places. She liked to imagine Mo somewhere beyond, feeling her presence still as she felt his.

She clutched the ivory with this fever dream thinking.

Tears rimmed her eyes, but she squeezed them shut. Sealed so tight she swore she saw stars in the darkness of her eyelids.

the chant lifted. it expanded.

it became the stars. it became the moon. it became the drum of the ancient blood.

and she swore she felt the old ones rising.

on kukutux sang.

At some point she fell into the rhythm with her mother.

Her heart was a war drum to accompany.

If she wept, she did not notice it now.

But tears did spill all the same.

Down her, down the ivory.

An offering.

mojag.

callyope.

a soul tie: broken.

kukutux had not known it.

all at once the drumming ceased. all at once the singing stopped.

she gathered her daughter into her arms and allowed the girl to weep.

She was spit back out all at once.

A rush of cold over her now opened eyes. The wind of the northern reaches nipped at her harsher now.

Her shoulders slumped as she found support in the steadfast form of moonwoman.

She cried, openly and boldly, until she made no more sounds. Too hoarse from it all.

when callyope eventually quieted, kukutux motioned to the piece of ivory.

"this now holds your tears."

she clucked her tongue.

"we will bury it. and with it, we bury this pain for mojag." kukutux felt he would return to them as a hunter.

Bury the pain for Mojag.

Just like that. She wondered if it really would be so easy, that the pain might lay to rest with the ivory piece.

Do we do this for each pain?

moonwoman nodded.

"for each. for every. sometimes hunters shed one spot of blood." she showed teeth-tip against the soft part of her paw, though she did not break the skin.

"women carry the pain that men cannot."

It is not fair.

But her voice was not that of a protest.

I will learn.

She knew she must, or she would drown and flounder beneath it all.

fade and something new? <3