Ouroboros Spine I'm flying like a bird to you now

it had been near to seven days. kukutux found that her broken bone, while still monumentally anguishing if she stepped wrong, had begun to heal.

angry tongue clucking inside her head. anaa would have already set and splinted the bone. and it was true; the duck's mother, having brought up boys of her own and the sons of her sisters, had become accustomed to knowing what to do when such things were snapped.

but kukutux had no such premonitions. she hobbled out of doors, glancing to the sky for sialuk's bird, and then to the nearest slope. the duck did not dare climb it, but she scratched one-legged in the snowbank, searching for two sticks. she could show her raindrop what should be done.

movement above her brought the moondrop's muzzle tilting upright. she watched the brief chase that ended in blood; he moved like a moon-dark glacier through the white. the fox was dead. from this distance she could not quite see the color of the man's eyes, but gave him a nod all the same: her first of approval.