Moonsong Glacier kasuutiruk ‡

claws scored the face of the ice. kukutux felt herself meld to it, for her body remembered how it had always been in the land of her birth, and a lightness filled her chest. eventually the duck came to a flatter promontory, and with breath rising in a column from her slim throat, kuktutux turned —

the sun made harsh by the pale field glinted upon his tall proud form, a shadow that grew legs and became flint against the landscape. kukutux' voice faded in her throat; she waited in silence for arcturus to draw close before fixing him with a solemn look. "this woman has sorrow that she did not keep her word to this man." careful now, to be so formal, and yet an intimacy in it, as if the word 'you' and the word 'i' tethered the duck too tightly.