Blackbeak Bluff maŋaq-siggu'uk

so, they went.

at first it was an easy climb because they had done it before, a few times now, and it was familiar; the only difficulty that became apparent to tautukpik was later, as the terrace beget weald, and he was faced with not only the edge of the neighboring plateau but the decision of where next.

in keeping northward, the air grew crisp and oddly flavored, and tautukpik looked to @Akmaaksi for help, but saw she was too focused on the act of movement; they shared that, for now. the more they moved the less they could think, and the less they could think the less time there was for feelings.

north, north, north, that was all he did; bringing them up alongside the bay, to a river, to a bluff. on, and on, and on, until tautukpik's only feeling was the pain in his body from overdoing it, and the hunger in his belly, and the souring of some part of his spirit.

even when stoppered by all of this, tautukpik wanted to move! they could not stop. to stop was to die; to stop was to—let the winter-man win, somehow. the two would be forced to make camp there upon the bluff before continuing their journey and the boy was beside himself about it.

akmaaksi put a paw on tautukpik's tense arm, seeking his eyes.

their climb had been rigorous. she did not even think he had spoken once, consumed as they both were with the mortal gnaw of pain which overtook their legs.

she was not disappointed to stop, only firmly conscious of his emotions. it was important that they slow and rest.

many times akmaaksi had looked back toward moonglow. in their own time they would have departed; resentment had settled into her spirit as she felt driven out.

she made camp in silence; she lay out the dried meat grandmother had given them and placed two pelts on the ground beside each other.

but firegirl did not eat, and she did not lie down. her ears continued to twitch, listening to the sea and the wind upon it.