Ouroboros Spine taimmalikii

"Among our people, if a woman wishes to leave a man, she brings her things to the ulaq of her mother and father, even if she does not stay there. It says she has returned home from the hearth of her husband. Her life then starts anew from that point." Kukutux had explained.

Ariadne had done exactly what'd been told of her. She'd dropped the children off with @Vairë, collected her belongings, and begun to make trips between her and her parent's ulax to drop off her belongings, which did not take long.

She could feel her heartbeat in her throat as she sat outside the den and kept an eye out for @Kigipigak, knowing she would have to stay here to have the conversation with him.

With everything on her end completed, all she could do was wait for him to arrive—that is, if he came. While she didn't want to go looking for him, a part of her knew it might be necessary, but she would do her best to avoid doing so.

A sighting had been made of a particularly dangerous creature along the edge of the village, and a call had gone to able-bodies; so Kigipigak saw this as a chance to show his worth to those of Moonglow, and he went. The mentioned threat turned out to be a pair of obnoxious foxes and nothing all that threatening. He had been left to his own devices as soon as the pair was spotted, and then spent the early afternoon hunting them.

When he returned to the village and sought the ulax, he carried the tod. His hope was to gift it to Asivaq or one of the children—but as he neared the sleeping places and turned towards home, he saw Asivaq standing before their ulaq and felt that something was different. As he got closer Kigipigak noted the quiet; the sound of their children playing was a near constant by now on a typical day, and yet in this moment there was silence.

He places the fox down upon the path and licks the taste from his mouth. Perhaps they are with their grandmother, he reasoned. Kigipigak watches his wife for a moment and while he feels there is tension between them, he does not suspect what is to come.

Wife. I wonder if this might be salvaged, he motions then to the fox, with its bloodied pelt.

Kigipigak arrived with a fox in his mouth, and when he placed it on the ground, he asked a question that made Ariadne's stomach churn—"Wife. I wonder if this might be salvaged."

I do not know, Kigipigak, she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat, feeling a wave of nausea overcome her.

There is something I would like to discuss with you, she began, taking a deep breath. She patted the ground next to her, inviting him to join her. Her heart pounded in her ears, her mouth grew dry, and the words rose like bile in her throat.

I am no longer happy in this marriage, and I have decided that it would be best if we went our separate ways. As much as she wanted to look away, she kept her eyes on him; it was the least she could do. I believe that we are too different in our ways and will never see eye-to-eye in our beliefs. Being home has made me realize how important my religion is to me, and I need someone who shares the same values.

I am sorry, Kigipigak.

Asivaq had learned well from her own anaa on how to tend to pelts, and the fox was still in good form, only bloodied—but she motioned to the earth beside herself, and Kigipigak knew she had misunderstood the question, and that she was referring to something else. He cast the fox a glance as he passed it, and moved to sit beside her. He regarded his wife in much the same way as the night before, beneath the lights. There was caution, there was uncertainty, and there was an attachment; of these things only two he could feel reciprocated, especially as she began to explain.

What came next was something Kigipigak had been afraid of, and deeply so; but he was Tartok, and he knew that it was the woman's choice who she lay with and who she kept as husband. The caution within Asivaq's explanation was curious—did she think he would rebel against the notion? It was not uncommon for a Tartok woman to choose a different husband each season; if he was no longer fit to be so, in her eyes, then that was the way it would go.

Did it hurt to listen to this girl speak? Yes. Did Kigipigak straighten his spine and begin to dissociate the longer Asivaq went on? A little bit. Her mention of religion was timed with a quick breath, and maybe it would sound as if he were dismissing the concept with a sigh, but it would not be on purpose. He was silent, and she then went on to apologize.

Is this your voice, or your anaa? He countered first, and before Asivaq could answer that he took another breath. As skilled as Kigipigak was in swallowing his hurt and as strong as he felt he was, the man did feel the great pain of this betrayal; that is what it felt like—to have tried so hard and then to be cast aside, not for any decision by the woman he loved, but by the convincing of the old woman Kukutux, for surely she had a hand in this.

He had known. It was impossible not to see how Asivaq had changed when their village fell, or how she blossomed again when returned to the moon village. You are right that we are different, but I do not see that as a bad thing. I understand that the ways of your village are important to you— the blood on her cheeks, her anger from the previous night, the way she had stormed off instead of speaking with him, all strong within his memory now; —but I never stopped you from your ways. You chose to go the Tartok way, and I was glad while it lasted. Now you sing your songs and you spend time with your family, and I do not stop you. Tell me wife, why is your mother's way the only way?

When next a man comes, if his way is again different, will you change your name and shed your songs again? Will you mold yourself to their vision and then leave them, too? Was this the magic of the moonfolk, to lure men long enough to bare their sons and daughters, and to chase them off again? His ire rose, but Kigipigak kept it in check.

"Is this your voice, or your anaa?" Kigipigak asked first.

It is my voice, Ariadne replied. It has been my voice my entire life—I just ignored it to be with you, and that was wrong of me. I am sorry. She'd abandoned everything for him; her life had become something she didn't particularly like, and only recently had she realized what she'd done. I should've been more steadfast in my beliefs and not abandoned them.

He went on to explain how he didn't see their differences as bad, and she shook her head, disagreeing. I need somebody who understands why I believe in what I do and participate. I somebody who understands, and I refuse to try and change you, Kigipigak. I know that you will never understand, and that is alright. We were just ... raised differently.

And that is why my anaa's way is what I believe—it was how I was raised, and it is what I believe to be true. I will no longer ignore the fact that I believe in this.

His last statement caused her lips to draw a taut line, and she sighed. If I marry again, it will be with a Sunshine person. I will not marry anybody outside of my beliefs again.

She said she needed someone that understood, and that she was not willing to change him. How could that be condusive to a healthy relationship if they did not evolve together? He watched her, he listened; truly, he would not let himself deviate in to his anger or wallow in his hurt, because it would do no good here. The fact that they were raised differently was obvious but it was also a blessing for their own children, who would learn of the many different ways of the world; and Kigipigak believed that, even if he didn't agree with all the strangeness of the Sunshine People.

If you want me to understand, then you must teach me. Kigipigak pointed this out as if he were speaking to a child, because he was. Although he did not mean to infantalize the woman who had carried his children, she was acting very much her age and only now did Kigipigak realize his mistake in taking one of the moon woman's daughters. But I cannot learn if you are not willing to help me. You are set on this? But she went on to say as much.

If I marry again, it will be with a Sunshine person.

Your people—your mother, all of you, he countered, feeling again the spark of his hurt, —acting as though you are so good, walking in the light of your Sedna, and singing your songs; you allow such openness in ways I will not hope to understand, yet you are closed in ways that separate you from the world. For all of your magical thinking you cannot see any other way but your own. He did not realize yet that this applied to himself, too. To his pride in his people, which was as powerful as Asivaq's love of her own.

I have never been accepted by your family and now they have turned you against me, fully. I knew it was a matter of time; I knew she would find a way, and in this moment he could not sit there any longer. Kigipigak rose to his feet and paced away from the woman, towards the fox; and now, what? Is another of my sons going to be raised to hate me, are my daughters going to be taught of spirits and magical light, never to realize their potential as issumatar?

He was turned now, watching Asivaq. All of this, because their mother lacks her own convictions; and you held such promise, issumatar. Is this truly what you want Asviaq?

His words were causing her blood to boil. If you wanted to learn, then you should have shown interest, she countered. Whenever anything happened, I felt like I could not go to you without feeling your judgment! You did not take an interest in singing the songs for our son, you never asked about my altars—aya! She shook her head and lashed her tail. I always felt like you did not care about my ways!

He insulted her people, and she stood and lashed her tail. See! There you go again! The judgment —aya! How would I be able to teach you if that is how you feel?

But as much as she wanted to continue, his remarking on the children gave her pause, and she quickly shook her head. No, that is where you are wrong, Kigipigak. I will not spew hate onto our children; they will not hate their father, and if they choose Tartok one day, I will not stop them. Us not being together will not change the fact that you are their father. You will be allowed to see them. She softened, if only for a moment. I would never keep them from you.

When asked if this was truly what she wanted, she nodded.

Yes, she answered. My mind is made up.

I am interested in our children! In you, too! I love my family and want the best for them; if you wanted me to learn you should have— but here his words faltered, because he had to temper himself again and because he knew swallowing his feelings was the best course of action; he need not go further than the raising of his voice, he did not want to give Kukutux more fuel, he did not want to alienate the one last connection to his family through Asivaq—but by now there was no escaping the argument or the fact that others could hear them. I always felt like you did not cae about my ways!

Her promise to him now, that he would be welcome to visit the children and to be their father, eased some of the hurt he felt; but he was filled with anger, too. He lay blame, and she lay blame, and together they had become raised voices; where once there had been love and connection to flaunt before the world, now there was only the storming of their rivaled upbringing.

Kigipigak paced, and said some things under his breath in the far-flung northland language of Tartok; he saw the fox laying in the grass and thought of their son, but did not linger long in his regard of it. My mind is made up.

He turned to look at her again, stone-faced, breathing heavily. Then so be it, Ariadne.

Kigipigak wanted to say so much more, but he knew he should hold his tongue. She had given him all she could and he must be satisfied with that, for at the very least he could still perform his duties as a father; although shame now filled him, knowing he had failed a second time at building a family.

Without another word, he turned and he marched from the empty sleeping place, leaving the fox forgotten in the grass.

After their thoughts had been shared, they'd come to an agreement. Their marriage was over. Kigipigak stalked away, and Ariadne watched until he was out of sight. When this happened, she sought out @Kukutux and rehashed everything.