Bramblepoint suli ∏

aw, tags for ref (or join :D)

already kukutux had considered several names for her redsun companion. there was no reason to leave moonspear, but the duck felt as though she must keep herself occupied. announcing to @Sialuk and @Saviguk that they were welcome to accompany her upon an outing, kukutux crooned a lower note for @Jarilo and set off down the crystalled slopes.

this noontime her shoulders swaddled in a swathe of black foxfur; she closed her eyes, leant into the wind. good to feel the lap of winter, the frozen air that had marked almost every year of her life. small paws, carrying kukutux forward with a confidence rarely seen in her submissive step.

Sialuk rarely left the slopes of her home, but the invitation from anaa was too enticing to pass up. Carefully making her way down the well-worn paths that her ancestors had once walked, she caught up to her green-eyed mother and greeted her with a chipper "woof!"

The bones were left at home, but Sixsix had followed her, swooping down occasionally to caw at her. She nipped at the air beside him playfully, careful not actually catch him. He was her companion, her guide, her qugax.

The wind is sharp, she said, smiling at the way Kukutux seemed so comfortable in it.

the caw of a blackfeathered bird caught the ear of kukutux first. she looked toward the grey skies for it, and then down toward the girl that had grown nigh to her shoulder. "the colder its teeth become, the farther your eyes can see." she was of course referring to snow, which her raindrop had not yet experienced in magnitude.

"i think that the ice and wind will speak to you and to your brother in a voice with much strength," kukutux observed, continuing on. "they come to me often."

Sialuk blinked, as if doing so would allow her to see father than she did right now. Nothing changed, of course, and she smiled at her mother, knowing that it was likely one of her many expressions that was simple and cryptic at the same time. It was one of the things she had grown to love about her mother, even as she grew into her own self. Of all her family, Kukutux was, without a doubt, her closest family member. Her father and brother were there, no doubt, but they did not have the same bond, and Sialuk knew that what she had with her mother was special. Not something that every daughter was blessed with, perhaps.

I like the snow, she said, but I miss the warmth of summer. Granted, many of her best memories were of carefree summer days when mother and father took care of her every need and Saviguk was still close by her side every moment of the day. As of late, they had drifted apart. She with her bones, he with... whatever it was he spent his time doing. She did not bother him with questions about it; it seemed impolite to do so.

Will you tell me about the day of my birth? she asked, curious to know what it was like and if her brothers and sisters birth day would be any different. She wanted something to compare it to.

the beauty of a bond with a first daughter was that each year kukutux might have more to impart. and so the wealth of the knowledge grew for those who knew it, for the more it was spoken upon and repeated, the greater its power became. and when sialuk had come to the proper age, the duck would pass down the things known only to a woman's circle.

"milik is pretty, but already i too miss the sun," the snow-wife shared keenly, though the rake of the wind was too delightful to ignore for long. the question posed by her raindrop was surprising, but only for a brief moment. sialuk questioned all things and kukutux answered. her daughter had amassed a great wealth of wisdom even at her young age, simply through her swift litany of inquries.

"i shall. there was much rain. i sent father away. i danced you and saviguk through the storm. you came to the earth first, and then your brother. i named you for the rain outside and saviguk for the edge of ice i felt. you must belong to the old story, i knew at once. then your father returned, and his face was very soft to see when he put his gaze upon the two of you for the first time." an affectionate sound, a curious look to know why sialuk had asked.

She listened to the story with the sort of attentiveness that she often did. She tried to imagine what it must have been like, feeling an odd sense of... sadness(?) that she could not experience it firsthand. At least not in a way she could remember. Next year, when it grew warm again, perhaps she could be there when her mother gave life to more children. She was excited about that prospect, and maybe one day she could tell her younger siblings about the day that they were born, just as her mother had done for her. It would be from a different perspective, she knew, but she saw no harm in that.

Will I be there when the new children are born? she asked. She had a feeling that father would be sent away, but children were women's work, and there would likely be ways in which Sialuk could help. She was already well on her way to becoming a decent medic, and she had a feeling keeping her younger siblings occupied would become much of her life when spring rolled around.

a slight furrowing of her brow, which soon smoothed into a flat plane of icewhite. "i had not thought of this until your words, sialuk," the isle-wife began softly, "but i think that yes. i saw birth-times when i was a child. you must also." 

one of the earlier passage rites, the duck supposed. there were three memorable ones before marriage: the first time a girl saw new life brought into the world. her first ugi. the silent waiting when later, at the ulaq of your father, the man who wanted you for wife arriving with the asked bride-price. it was then that a woman could refuse or accept, demand more. the first time her voice was raised in the speaking of her own wants.

and the first, by the blessing of the gods, she could give to sialuk. "it is a very tight time," kukutux warned all the same in soft tones.

Sialuk was ecstatic to hear that she would be there. She felt a buzz of excitement thinking about what would happen and what it would be like. Witnessing the birth of her new baby siblings would surely be something magical, and she knew that time would be sacred to her mother (and to her). Saviguk would not get such a privilege, she knew, and some part of her was excited about that, too. While he was allowed more freedom to roam, or perhaps just did it on his own accord, Sialuk would have her own advantages.

Anaa referred to it as a tight time, and Sialuk nodded. She had some inkling that childbirth was not all flowers and butterflies, and yet it intrigued her. Being there for that special moment was something she now very much looked forward to.

sialuk was quiet. kukutux thought that her raindrop might be considering all that she said, and so for a time she was silent. 

the inner spirit spoke. the snow-wife's brow furrowed a moment, then smoothed, and she glanced sidelong at her growing girl. "i have not told you of your kin upon the island, sialuk," the duck said softly. for she did not speak of them, so fearful she had been of calling their names.

the trader

"you would have had another ajaukuluk," kukutux went on, facing front again. "she has gone to the dancing lights, but i will tell you if you have the wish."

The island, from whence her mother had come, was one of those things that Sialuk knew not to ask about. However, when the information was so rarely offered to her, she soaked it up like a sponge. This island felt like an unknowable place, a part of her mother she would never truly understand, no matter how hard she tried. But now, she had a chance to learn a little bit more, and she would take as much as she could get. Anaa was her closest friend and confidant.

I would very much like that, she said, a somber smile upon her face.

it was strange, to think of the long-gone spirit that had once been in the body of her sister. the duck allowed herself the pleasure of evoking the beloved face. "she wore eyes the shade of pine-bark tea. we had the same parka," kukutux added, motioning to her own pale coat. "she told me all the stories of her ugi and knew all of anaa's songs." 

"when i had the moons to ask what was the meaning of 'kukutux,' i did not understand and had frustration. angajuk told me, 'najâtsuk, natigvik makes the wary duck become a spirit on the flat earth. she sees but cannot be seen. she listens but cannot be heard. she is safe when she keeps close to those she trusts. it is good to be kukutux.'"

a breath in the retelling, all spilling from her breast as if it were a river beginning to thaw. the moonbow tucked her composure back into its practiced rein, smiled at sialuk. "she had more moons than i knew, but she was not unkind to me. a good teacher. i learned from her and from our mother. when taataa's second wife danced our brothers into the word, angajuk was with me and we saw them take first breath together."

a roll of her shoulders. something pinched inside of her chest.

"she came to me in the last days i knew the island. 'wary duck in the snowdrift, i have good news. you no longer must be called kukutux, for your name will be ajaukuluk soon.'" the snow-wife did not realize she had stopped, nor that her green eyes had grown vacant with thoughts of those three days. before the falling stones.

blinking, returning. "she would have happiness to know you, pukak."

Like all the times she had listened to her mother's stories before, Sialuk leaned in and listened, putting together small pieces of anaa's past life. She wished that she could truly know what her mother had been like then, but this was likely as close as she was going to get to that. From what Sialuk understood, no blood family of her mother's still walked the earth except for Sialuk and her brother, and they had been made after she had come from the island.

She tried to imagine this aunt of hers and how she might have fit into Sialuk's own life if she had still been with them. She would have liked to have known her, just as her mother explained that her aunt would have liked to know Sialuk herself. Alas, that was not the way of the world, and Sialuk could only know her through the veil that was her mother's tales.

sialuk was quiet. kukutux felt that her daughter considered many things, but did not pry for them. in good time, the girl might share. or would not, though the raindrop had good rapport with her mother. the duck did not wish to think that a moon might come where sialuk would retire into the world of women and keep things close to her heart.

"perhaps we go back to the ulaq. i have paunngaaq there." frozen now, the little taste of summer might break the ice around sialuk's tongue, she hoped; kukutux dearly wished to hear any thoughts her daughter currently entertained.

Wrapping up here. I need to hop into some new threads.

Sialuk nodded in agreement. She had many things to think of now, but mostly she thought of her future brothers and sisters. To have a sister would be a new experience, and she oh-so looked forward to it. Saviguk was a good brother, but a sister would be new and novel if her mother was blessed with one (or more) new daughters.