Ouroboros Spine atvaktaktuk

The girls were returned to the ulaq after the service, but not Sisamat. The boy did not want to sleep or to be hidden away, so Kigipigak - emotionally drained in his own way - allowed some leniency. He lingered outside the ulaq so that his son could investigate his surroundings; but they would not be far either, so that Kigipigak could watch over the others.

He was tired. It had not fully sunken in until now. The travel had been one thing, the building stress of being within Moonglow another. The ceremony to see off his son, whose body wasn't even here and whose spirit did not exist, added more weight to Kigipigak's experience.

He had felt eyes upon him more than once. No doubt the spiritual people of the village wondered why a father would not sing for his dead son; he presumed they all judged him for his stoicism. He was glad to be gone from there.

The boy made a sound, so Kigipigak turned and regarded Sisamat as he motioned after something, but Kigipigak did not have the attention span for silly games and soon called to him, Alright, that's enough. Come, join your sisters.

The boy gave him a stare that made Kigipigak's spine straighten, but he didn't obey quickly. Sisamat, now. His tone betrayed his lack of patience - and the boy hastened to the door, ducking inside while his father sat across the entrance, to keep watch.

there had been a visible lightening on the face of ariadne after the rite for little fox, which pleased her mother and made her angry over again that her daughter had ever suffered.

sialuk was a healer! kukutux knew much medicine! she had students now of her own. there were many healers among them. the boy did not have to die. and if sedna had still seen fit to bring him back, ariadne would not have suffered without her mother and her sisters.

she had not yet approached the ulaq chosen by the home of her daughter's family. the silence between kigipigak, moonmother, and sun man had become dire.

today she would break it. closing a proverbial hand around the kernel of goodwill she genuinely desired to feel, kukutux filled a skin with the usual treats offered the young ones of moonglow and appeared along the path just as she heard kigipigak's voice sharp.

he sat tall and watchful. kukutux put down the things she had brought. "i greet you. i have brought things for your children."

be wise. her face was not warm, but it no longer held a cold touch, softening when she saw the little features of who she thought to be sisamat near the entryway.

The boy lingered instead of going and laying with his sisters. Kigipigak gave him a look - and saw reflected in those blue-green eyes another pale figure. He turned and saw Kukutux there, with a bundle offered. He quickly dismissed the boy, who ducked away finally to do as instructed.

The woman had brought toys as a peace offering. Kigipigak thought of all the toys they'd left in the Sweep that he had gathered, which would either go forgotten or be picked up by Reyna's people. His jaw set as he looked at these things...

But, he knew for Asivaq's sake he would have to try harder.

Thank you. I'm sure they'll be thrilled with them. He could have taken them in that moment, but didn't move. The tension between them could not have been one-sided; there was a chill there, one which he had felt upon their arrival and then again at the honoring of his son.

It was a nice ceremony. He offered back.

"i hope that it will be healing for asivaq."

she took a careful seat where she stood, unrolling the finely-made caribou skin and lying out the whorls of dried trout, the crackled skins of beavertail meat, elk fat, new berries.

the green eyes moved themselves to kigipigak once more. she took him in, this now-estranged kinsman of hers.

"will you eat with me, kigipigak?"

they must try. her heart burned to ask why he had not let sisamat from the den, and a dread settled. fighting the sensation, kukutux anticipated the reply of the solemn scarred man, aware that a great rift had opened in the unseen ice between them.

Kigipigak saw the bounty that she flaunted before him.

Look at what I can provide! Spiritually, physically. Look at how easy it is!

He was tired. But to deny her meant that rift between them would widen; she would have further fuel to her fires against him.

Kigipigak nods and accepts that she means to stay, that she wants to press the advantage of her rank as she was accustomed.

Amused by something, he smirks ever so slightly. I am surprised - you couldn't look at me when we returned, yet now you want to share a meal.

He tips his chin as if to say, go ahead, then.

Let us eat.

he goaded, and the sliver of well wishing in kukutux evaporated by half. quietly she did not answer, seeing no reason to rise to his comment.

her eyes fell upon the den behind him, but only for a moment. several mouthfuls put her somewhat through the meal of symbolic acceptance.

"now that you are here, what is it you have the want to do?" moonmother asked softly. there was always work to be done in the village, but he knew this. why he had not joined them in their work annoyed kukutux, who saw now that he kept his children from the front of the ulaq and did not avail himself of those many willing to acquaint themselves with the little ones.

be wise. kukutux was here now for them.

She did not comment, only took to the meal. Her silence felt like an echo. Kigipigak had not taken a piece of what was offered yet, and when he did he took something small and easy to replace.

He chewed thoughtfully, although he held an answer at the ready even before the question was put upon him.

My job is to keep my family safe, as it always has been. He spoke this plainly, and then silence swept between them again.

Kigipigak had kept foreigners away from his children and his wife, had brokered peace between his village and Reyna's people, and he had accepted that the forest was no home to them when Asivaq said to leave; he would employ the same focus now, in the heart of this equally foreign place.

Kukutux would not take another child from him.

"and we are your family, kigipigak."

not now. they always had been, had they not? in her mind she leant upon the unseen tautness of those kinship ties, feeling how they stretched between he and she.

he had never heeded them until it suited him. would he now?

be wise.

the emerald eyes were contemplative. the food was rich and good, succulence which had been the keep of moonglow for many generations now.

for a moment, kukutux considered more words, and then she let them go.

and the quiet lay heavy.

She utilized the connection of their family through the marriage of her daughter, as she always did. She claimed family so easily, when Kigipigak did not share blood with her; when Kivaluk did not either, but that had only been an obstacle.

Now she claimed Kigipigak as family again, as it suited her. To force herself close to the children no doubt - a fact Kigipigak could see plainly. He took another morsel of food and ate it, feeling a strain in the quiet.

I am glad that Asivaq is home among her people. She struggled in our village. The forest she chose was good to us, but I admit it was a quiet place. That was all he would offer Kukutux; this win which might take her mind away from the sleeping babes in the ulax.

kigipigak separated himself from the sunshine people with a single word.

but he would not make this choice for her grandchildren. 

"and who are your people, kigipigak?"

softly voiced, glancing down as she asked in a tone that did not grow in volume. the elk fat glistened in the sunlight.

the verdant eyes returned to the man. kukutux hoped he would allow his pride to speak again, as it made him plainer. more direct. and so the dying tree between them was slowly cut down to its root.

What was the angle here? Why did she ask when she knew? He was so proud to carry their blood; proud that his children did too, and this time they would know it, they would grow in to their names.

Our people are Tartok. You know this. He spoke of the children too, in this. He saw the way Kukutux spared glances to the mouth of the ulaq as if she might cast her eye upon a child - and so he claimed them now. Knowing they shared blood with the Sunshine People, knowing they were as much Asivaq's; knowing they were grandchildren.

He would not truly refuse them their birthright among either people - only access from Kukutux. The dull look on his face might share as much. He did not boast this time.

They sleep now. Thank you for the meal, but I worry our voices might disturb them. It has been a long, confusing day already for them. Kigipigak did not dismiss the Moonwoman as he knew better, but he gave her reason to depart should she be willing.

he spoke also of them.

"your people are tartok."

the land upon which kigipigak sat was her land. the ulaq in which her grandchildren had been guarded was her ulaq.

sunshine land.

softly moonmother folded the skin lovingly over the rest of the meat offerings. 

she stood, stepping back with a gentle unfurling of her tail, not in banner-wave but in a soft acknowledgement of this thing that he had put between them. "yes. they must rest." her eyes had not left him. "i will return in the morning when they are awake. they may come with me to the lake. i will teach them the skin-curing songs."

now kigipigak determined if kukutux would move off now, and only in the face of his silence would she do so.

There it was - the truth. His children were welcome here for the Sunshine in their blood and for no other reason; the claim of Tartok upon them was refused. How could the family hope to exist here when they weren't wholly accepted?

And then to hear Kukutux make a plan to take them, even on a day trip away, to make her ways their ways... He was angry, and the immediacy of his anger was startling. As she rose to leave he rose to stand before her, towering.

They will be busy. We are giving them their names. It is one of the few rituals of Tartok, but an important one. If she still wished to take them after, they would carry their new names with them. Kukutux would have to accept the presence of his warrior's blood, then.

"then i will ask your issumatar to tell me when i may come." 

the chin of kukutux proudly lifted as she gave the man's ways back to him.

how could he claim his people for children who were clearly not protected by those spirits? tartok had failed a child of her blood. he had failed that child. 

and i see you did not sing for your son. 

more insult. more offense. he distanced himself from them. he made the choice for the children of a sunshine mother. had it been a man's pain which kept his mouth shut or pride? and if it was pride, did he think it was unseen now? and if it had been pain, why did he now stand above her as if he offered threat to the grandchildren she had seen perhaps once since their arrival?

tooteega, leaning; but that is not all.

no. that was not all.

the abandonment. sakhmet. kivaluk. the kinship ties. the courtship of ariadne. the way in which moonglow gave to the boar-man and kigipigak gave nothing back.

the insult of that remembered first meeting, the mingled scents upon him. deliberate. he had meant to flaunt his dalliance in the sleeping-place of her daughter. kukutux did not yet know that he truly had done it over kivaluk's place as moonglow hunter and not warrior of tartok; she had only believed that the deliberateness of his actions had been malicious.

like the snowcats, she had waited long and now he blundered into her blind as if he were a rut-maddened elk.

He accepted this. She knew to weild his culture back at him in clumsy malpractice; and yet he would accept, and defer to his wife who was no longer issumatar and more like a girl now than ever before.

He would leave their shared tongue. I will let her know. And Kigipigak knew just as well that Asivaq would fold, she would do her mother's bidding as any girl might. Whatever backbone he had thought to gift to her through marriage appeared to have crumbled upon their return.

He would have words, also, and tell his wife of his reluctance. She had heard his turmoil over Kivaluk and knew the strain in him, returning to this place which tore apart his first family. Kigipigak did not want to lose a second, but neither did he want to be rent asunder by this rival culture.

Silence came, and with an expectation Kigipigak observed the old woman, waiting for her to depart.

moonmother said nothing more. her gaze held upon the tartok-man for a long moment which stretched until it thinned and became a wan smile.

he needed to have the final word, this man who recognized her power and sought to assert the waning influence of his own stature.

pride.

pity shimmered openly in her gaze, almost genuine. he too had lost a son. three sons. and a wife.

why did you not come back?

to build, you must work. kigipigak worked but could not build. 

kukutux turned away and walked steadily down the path which led away from their dwelling.