Silver Moraine v manik

They could speak his language and that alone should have reduced his sense of uncertainy, not brought it blazing to life. The man spoke of a place he had never heard of and each of them had strange names, not those he was used to hearing at any rate.

None in his home village held such a fiery mark as the woman. Most looked like the man—and Kigipigak thought of his sisters, at first fondly and then with some consternation, incidentally flavoring his speech with a cold sort of pride: I am the son of the matriarch Sedna, of Unnuakvik.

Winter-hewn coat serrated as his mantled shoulders spiked, his tail a weighted flail hanging at his hocks. His head raised to match that of the man. I am the youngest of my tribe to earn my name. And as they held such odd ones themselves, he wondered if they were like him — or weak anneriwok like the sisters he no longer loved.