Bramblepoint aŋayukłiq

Kigipigak had not expected the change to occur so quickly within Ariadne, to go from his devoted wife to the woman who merely carried his latest brood, but that is what had transpired. He knew now he could not stay within the village—but he also would not abandon his children to the Sunshine People, and while he was welcome among the trio right now, any wrong move might cause that kindness to be revoked. While he reeled from his broken heart he also sought a place for himself—any place that was far enough from the will of Kukutux to allow him his grief and his shame, but close enough that he could still get to-and-from Moonglow.

His children would know their father. They would learn their history; the stories of his mother Sedna, of her mother Saghani, of Siku the First—they would be taught to fight and to hunt as best he could provide, and as they grew he would make sure they knew their options. They need not follow all the ways of their mother's people. There was a place for them to live the life they chose, beneath the shining lights where they could make a name for themselves, and find their own strengths in the real world.

But for now, Kigipigak was unmoored and he was hurting. He took himself from Moonglow down among the hills, the fields, the forests—and as he neared the Bramblewood he wondered if he might come across Amalia again; but he also thought of his son @Kivaluk, and as he thought of his first-born Kigipigak could not help himself—he raised his chin and gave a call to let the man know, I am here, can we talk?

It was only after the sound of his voice faded upon the wind that Kigipigak felt a sudden drop and twist in his stomach, as an intimate fear gripped at him so suddenly and so visciously; what if he did not come? What would he say if he did?

the call is surprising as it rises from bramblepoint and for a long moment kivaluk considers not answering it, not sure that he wants to hear what his father had to say. during the big changes in kivaluk's own life: the birth of his children, his rapid rise to leadership within brecheliant has occupied his time: shoving all other thoughts to some dusty, dark corner.

but eventually, they circle back around.

this time it was in the form of a call from kigipigak.

still, despite the ugly turmoil of things he was not able to sort nor work through, he moves to meet his father; cutting a familiar, glacial figure in the closing distance.

kigipigak, greets kivaluk when he is close enough, steps slowing to a stop.

He does not know how long he waits. He does not know if Kivaluk is coming, or perhaps he will be left alone in these woods to feel all the things he had so far tried to swallow; but, it is fortunate for Kigipigak that his son does arrive. He is cold, which is to be expected—but the fact that he had come at all is akin to an olive branch extended. A small one, frost-bitten.

Kivaluk. He sighs the name.

I... What could he say? This had not been planned. It is good to see you. Although it felt one-sided, a fact which radiated with great uncertainty and pain for Kigipigak. It was a feeling he had gotten from Ariadne as well.

I wanted—I have some news, he had never been so uncertain with his words before! What was this? Where had the pride gone? You have a baby brother, and two sisters. That was a good place to start, he thought. Somewhere that brought him the better feelings, even if the thought of his three children brought to mind their own turmoil.

And that Ariadne has decided I am not her husband—any longer. This was a harder pill to swallow, a more difficult truth to voice. But he presented it to Kivaluk so that nothing was hidden. And while I know we have our problems you and I...

I ask if I may find a home here, so that I might be close to all of my children. He wondered what Kivaluk would make of this, or if he would also deny him; it would be understandable, and Kigipigak would not fault him for saying no.

baby siblings. everything before that goes heard, acknowledged with a small tip of his chin but a sentiment unreturned.

kivaluk's nervous system goes into some sort of shut down, still thinking the union between ariadne — whom he had naturally seen as a sibling due to his closeness with kukutux and her brief marriage to his mother — and his father was wrong. the fact that children had came out of it feels even more wrong. settles on his tongue like battery acid.

more baby siblings to be abandoned — and he did not solely blame kigipigak for that. sakhmet had abandoned and failed galana. except this time, he did not know them.

and perhaps, he thinks, it is for the best. his heart still ached for galana, even now; thinking that her aches and abandonment wounds go deeper than even he knows.

two sisters and a brother.

his stomach twists, as if the earth begun crumbling unsteadily beneath his paws. how strange that kigipigak's litter mirrors his own.

two daughters and a son.

this news is followed by the one that he and ariadne were now divorced. his tail twitches against his haunches, unsure how he is meant to feel about that tidbit of information. glad, perhaps that his sister had wisened up? if he was meant to feel pity: he doesn't. not truly, and there was no point in him pretending to. my condolences, i suppose. the words are offered because it is a polite thing to do but they hold fast to the same chill of the jagged titan spine that had raised him.

kivaluk did not know if the tattered bridge that lay over the chasm between them could ever truly be repaired. there were obvious attempts: it could be crossed but the bridge was as treacherous as the raging river and deadly rock formations at it's bottom.

maybe it was the tartok in him that made him so utterly unforgiving; bullheaded and as cold and stoic as the grim reaper.

you can make your home where ever you wish to. i cannot stop you any more than you need my permission. kivaluk speaks, finally deigning to use more than four words.

a draw of breath is given, then. but if you absolutely want it, then you have my permission. kivaluk could grant him this much, he figures. a small boon. another repaired plank of the tattered, decrepit bridge between them. another, smaller boon is offered when kivaluk speaks, you are a grandfather. in a strange twist of fate, to two granddaughters and a grandson.

At first the man's answer held perceived indifference; this was to be expected, but in his current mental state Kigipigak was wounded all the same. When Kivaluk went on to give his blessing, essentially, there was a mote of hope sparking to life between them.

Thank you, Kivaluk. He wanted to believe there was a chance of reconnection, but perhaps that was a far-flung idealization that could not be realized. It would require work, which Kigipigak was always willing to do.

The news of the three grandchildren was not news to the man, but he reacted with a smile, exuding pride for his son, and some measure of warmth tentatively offered. That is amazing. I am glad for you, being a father - it is a blessing.

He watched his son, wondering if life would be kinder to him and his family than it ever was to Kigipigak. And Chickadee, she fares well?

it is almost hard to believe that once upon a time, the dynamic between them had been so different. kigipigak had once stood on a pedestal above and all other mortals — but so had sakhmet. he had idolized them so much, once upon a time ... and perhaps that was why the believed to be betrayals hurt him so bad. spikes that dug in so deeply, imbedding themselves into his bones.

the fortress of towering rock and ice that kivaluk stands high above on the battlements of are simply to protect him. shying away from getting too close.

he wants to be immovable, to be cerberus guarding the gates of the underworld: an imposing force of nature with slavering jaws and snapping teeth made for crushing bones; uncaring about things as trivial as sentimentality ( even though he clearly does ).

is it? the question slides betwixt his teeth like a scimitar loosened from scabbard. a visceral reaction, no thought to buffer it, to catch it. though it may have twisted on his lips to sound patronizing, it is genuine enough:

did kigipigak enjoy being a father? and if he did... was it just to his newest children?

so far, kivaluk enjoyed being a father even if his children were not yet old enough to comprehend much ... but they were growing more mobile by the day. soon, they would be much harder to contain and herd together like wayward kittens.

i enjoy being a father, he admits in the graveyard still moments after. though they don't do much right now. they felt so fragile at this stage, which only heightened his paternal instinct to protect.

chickadee is well, yes. likely eager to leave the den for more extended periods of time. her parents have been more than gracious. he admits, to the point that it almost pains him. welcoming their den to the young couple with three squalling babes, and elevating kivaluk to leadership so soon after his arrival...

it is a debt he will spend a long time paying back.

Is it? A slice to Kigipigak's bruised heart, so quick, effortless. The man doesn't have an answer; he doubts one is expected, and besides, Kivaluk is not wrong to doubt him. All Kigipigak can do now is silently pledge to prove himself.

Kigipigak smiles as he hears the way his son speaks of his wife, their parents, the family as a whole. There is a vague vicarious connection through Kivaluk, feeding in to Kigipigak. What was it like to have that support system? To be welcome, to find esteem and respect so easily?

He thinks of the potential meeting of his newest children with Kivaluk's own, and his heart aches anew. But he is warm too, and trying to find something to bridge the gap.

She is a fine woman. Kigipigak need not state the obvious but he did not know what else to say, or offer. Better to have this conversation ebb, and see what came after.

Do you need to call for anyone? To see if I could stay. He had not realized yet that his son was within the leadership of this village.

she is. kivaluk could sing his wife's praises all day and night long to whomever would listen: the sun and the moon if no living thing was there to hear him wax poetry about the love of his life; but he settles for simple words that barely scratch the surface.

despite being resolved to offer this boon, to make his home neutral ground, a swell of uncertainty creeps within him like a sudden twist of the tide. kivaluk cannot say if this is a good idea or an absolutely terrible one. from a practical and tactical standpoint: his father was a good hunter and that was the whole reason he'd been elevated to raven to recruit and accept those with hunting potential and skills.

from a personal standpoint, kivaluk isn't so sure he's ready to share his home with his estranged father. but he scrubs his personal feelings and long, labored past wounds of believed wrongs out of the way: they have no place here. not anymore, not when he was looking at things from the perspective of a leader.

no, kivaluk drawls on a heavy exhale. i am a leader, raven among the people of brecheliant. and it still feels weird to say, still gives him a bit of an out of body experience, but so long as he sticks to what he knows and lets the weaving of diplomacy to maia ( at the very least until he was trained how to navigate the slippery slopes of court intrigue and delicacies ), he will be fine.

When his son explains his role, his responsibility, Kigipigak feels pride again. He wants to take credit where a father often did, and yet within that strengthening sense of, look at how good my blood is, he knows that Kivaluk was a strong and capable man in his own right - and truthfully, in spite of his origin. Kigipigak could not claim any part of his son's ascension and he knew that.

The only thing he could do now was offer, Then I should ask if there is any work that needs doing. Anything I can hunt, or any tasks you might have in mind?

Kigipigak would be happy with the distraction; if he could further prove his intentions in this way, all the better to get started. He would need time to adjust to his new home.

brecheliant is low on hunters. there is ... well, me. and he splits his time observing herds and tracking their movements between border patrols, and spending time with his wife and kids. he was a hard working man, as blue collared as they came, but he fears the inevitable burnout; especially as the kids grew and started becoming more adventurous and demanded much more of his and chickadee's attention.

and now you, if hunting's what you wish to do. he had specifically stated hunting, but even so, he had choice to follow whatever path he wanted. my in-laws are ... older, he doesn't know how old either of them are, so he says this delicately, though he suspects eljay is the elder of the two.

eljay, chickadee's father, spends a lot of time helping her keep the kids entertained during the day while i'm out.

Kigipigak listened. He understood how hard it was to have a family when a village needed to be fed and protected, especially now that Napatukvik had dissolved. As capable as Kivaluk proved to be, there would always be the desire by fathers and mothers to be present, to be involved.

I will hunt then! That will take some of the work and spread it out. I am certain your Chickadee would appreciate seeing her husband more frequently. He was trying to find a point of commonality between them. Kigipigak could not shake the memory of those two weeks within Moonglow: unable to settle himself, spending all of his time minding the children while his wife had been gone every night for her singing.

I am thankful for this, Kivaluk. For the work and for your welcome. I promise I will not waste this chance. It was heartfelt, and perhaps these words carried more of a dire undercurrent than he meant; but Kigipigak had lost much, and was indeed thankful to have gained something back.

still, kivaluk has some festering reservations about this, unsure if he was helping him leave behind his youngest children despite the apparently present turmoil of kigipigak's life. he does not know what it feels like to not be wanted by one's own wife ( hoped he never found out ), and how it might feel suffocating living in a pack with her while she actively sought someone else.

but it was, as kigipigak said: a chance.

the last and final chance from kivaluk, at least.

come, beckons the wayward son. i will give you the tour.