Silver Moraine ikunapuga
Napatuqvik
Sangilak

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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All Welcome 
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Kigipigak ranged away from Natigvik. He ran alongside @Sakhmet for a time, and when they reached one of the Moonglow camps they split to do their own things. She went to visit the women's circle; that was no place for a man, and so Kigipigak carried on. He saw to the many faces and offered his services to track, or chase, and by the evening he felt fulfilled in a way he hadn't experienced in some time.

It was the same sense of accomplishment he'd experienced when training Tulukiri, or the other Tartok recruits. To run with others, to work towards a common goal and to spend the night feasting on the spoils - these were things he had loved as a boy, and now could fully appreciate as a man, and as a father.

He wondered how @Kivaluk experienced these hunts. If his training went well alongside the girl warrior. Perhaps he had found an attachment growing between himself and someone of Moonglow? Kigipigak's mind turned to matchmaking suddenly, and he let out a small bark of laughter. That was not his job! To matchmake; he was not @Kukutux. But still, the thought became a current within his brain; he could not shake the possibilities of it.
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forgive me, i love threads with kigi but can delete if wanted <3 

shikoba was in the circle for the women for a bit of her time, but oftentimes she found it difficult to stay still. despite the time of joy that is meant to be brought on by the joining of nativgik in their neck of the woods, she still finds herself worried about her son.

she would talk to the spirits who listened at night. any who were awake and watching her. and each night, she'd ask for them to watch over his body and soul, and ensure that he was alive and well. she wasn't sure if they truly ever did anything, but her faith hadn't declined yet. and so long as kukutux believes his spirit is alive, then the mother will believe it too.

she was placing her own scent along the lines that bordered the campsite of Moonglow. and as she moves, kukutux's winterhawk has come into sight. she offers him a loud chuff once they are seemingly in hearing distance of each other. an invitation to join her, if he wishes.
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Napatuqvik
Sangilak

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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The man was lost in his machinations for a bit, but when he was summoned by a distant voice he put aside his thoughts and came willingly to stand with Shikoba. He had not seen her in some time.

You look well, Shikoba. Kigipigak complimented with a wag of his tail. He did not know of the sad undercurrent to her life of late, and did not think as he said next, How fares your son with these hunts? I imagine he has learned well from both of his hunter parents.

Perhaps they could chase the caribou together! Her clan and his, bonding through bloodshed, as the tradition now stood.
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the backbone rumbles his greeting and shikoba comes to press her nose against his shoulder in a kind greeting and as thanks for his compliment. in many ways it felt as if her grief was a shadow that came and went as it pleased. some days it wore on her shoulders heavily, under her bags of yellow eyes that barely glowed. other days, the grief would be the shadow of a mouse, following her, but something more manageable to ignore.

today, it wraps itself around her neck when kigipigak speaks of mojag. any mother would feel grateful that not only their child remembered, but held to a higher standard of behavior and skill. her heart ought to beat with pride for her son, but yet all she feels is something shatter once more in the deeper chambers of her ribs. "kigipigak looks strong, natigvik grows. moonglow remains strong." she says quietly as she looks off in the distance for a moment.  "but I struggle."

"mojag has gone off, and shikoba does not know why," she answers honestly to the winter hawk, "and inutsuk has left Moonglow. he came back as a spirit, not whole." the loss of her husband and son, both of which held great importance to her. shikoba is not sure what to think at this point other than that she is to blame. she is the only common denominator between the two, or at least that's what she thinks. 

"shikoba is scared, winter comes closer." would mojag even know what to do without his mother during this time? shikoba hoped that he has learned much during this time, and prayed that each day that passes brings her closer to his reunion with moonglow.
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Napatuqvik
Sangilak

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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Kigipigak did not realize his blunder until long after he had spoken. As he witnessed, Shikoba's spirit appeared to fluctuate and grow further pained, and he knew immediately he had done something or said something wrong. She spoke of struggle — then of her son, and her husband, both vanished.

It was a terrible tale. Kigipigak could not fathom loosing his entire family in such a way; to have Sakhmet taken from him, returned, taken again, doubting if she were merely a ghost or some figment. To lose his sons! The man refused to even consider how that would affect him, as if thinking it might manifest it as truth. It hurt to even try to comprehend and he was not a mother!

I am sorry, he started to say. Shikoba admitted to being afraid. It is getting colder, yes. The boy is of your blood, though. He is strong like his mother. He did not know how to make the moment better for Shikoba. He could not very well summon the child from wherever he was, living or dead, to give her closure.
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often times it is hard to sympathize with others for tragedies that would never seem to strike oneself; placing yourself in the difficult shoes of others and walking miles on end is often tiresome and requires introspective thinking. shikoba is thankful for kigipigak's understanding at least and his words of condolence.

she lets out a breath for a moment, letting her shoulder brush against his in a quiet form of searching for comfort from the man. kigipigak has known mojag, and if he can hold faith that the boy will survive, then shikoba must be willing to put her own faith forward as mojag's mother. the world is cold, and despite the desire to keep mojag away from what is cruel, shikoba can only pray that the world leaves a few rays of light for mojag to thrive in.

"I hope so." 

shikoba has never been one to be the best at social cues, but she had a feeling that a heavy conversation is one that kigipigak would rather avoid. and so, she decides to change gears. "does kigipigak thrive with his family?" her tone is hopeful, wondering about the adventures of the man and his family upon the river. "your sons grow by the day."
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Napatuqvik
Sangilak

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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Kigipigak walks and hopes that Shikoba walks with him, if only to keep them both occupied. He has no other option; he does not know how to fix this situation of her's, and rightly doesn't know if it is his place to even try, even if they are kin. He has his own village to worry about — but he is hopeful of the boy's survival also, and concerned.

She asks after his own family and briefly he smiles, not wishing to compare their lives yet eager to let his boastful side reign free. Kigipigak is proud of his family. He loves them each in his way, and cannot fathom a world without them in it. I do thrive. They are both growing tall and strong, and I hope one day they will be powerful warriors of Tartok - and great hunters, like their atchaga Shikoba.

He dips his head to her respectfully. My wife Sakhmet is a good mother. I believe together we will help our children grow in to fine men. Who knows — perhaps in time Kukutux will find them a match, and our families will unite in blood as well! That was a long way off, though. A jest, for now.
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atchaga. she'd wear the new title with pride.

for a moment shikoba did wonder if sahkmet had a way to sway her boys off of the path of tartok. while kigipigak has come off as being normal from the lineage, shikoba is still weary of the tendencies hidden by the culture. she hopes a feminine touch is enough to keep the boys softer.

to think of marriage for a moment, shikoba wonders about the likelihood that mojag would have married. she knew that he and callyope were of a strong friendship, of course mainly in their childhood. shikoba could only hope to be there on the day that he ever decides to be wed to someone.

"fine men, and finer husbands." this would be her hope at least. "does kigipigak plan for more in the spring?" a personal question, she'd offset the seriousness with a light smile towards him. shikoba was honestly tuckered out on the idea of pregnancy, not to mention her older age. but she wondered if kigipigak would wish for a daughter besides his strong sons.
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Napatuqvik
Sangilak

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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403 words (nano)

Kigipigak had high hopes for both of his sons. He wanted them to follow in his footsteps as much as they were capable, and he thought them to be highly capable beings already, which meant they would no doubt become Tartok warriors of great esteem. He would soon be initiating them to the ranks of anneriwok as was the custom. Kivaluk held the most promise as a warrior and ranger, taking after Kigipigak the strongest in that vein; while Akkuma, who Kigipigak had not spent as much time with, appeared to favor Sakhmet in his own way. That wasn't a detriment to him - as the woman was their issumatar and of great importance to the family, Akkuma could learn a lot from her. One day both of their sons would earn the name of Tartok for themselves. He could see Kivaluk becoming sangilak to his own village one day!

Fine men. They would indeed become fine, strong men of Tartok!

Does Kigipigak plan more in the spring? Shikoba had the question that faced all women, which was shared among the womens circles as they gossiped and made their matches. It was not for Kigipigak to decide; but he was smiling his usual gregarious grin, and loosed a laugh that spoke volumes. I would like many sons and daughters! I do not plan it, but if that is what Sakhmet desires also, then we will fill the icelands with our children. Natigvik will be stronger for it. He thought immediately of Tulukiri when he spoke of daughters, and a part of him did consider the transplanted girl to be connected to them now in this way, a worthwhile addition to their village. If she did not enjoy that association, Kigipigak also considered her as a possible match for either son - but that was again, something for the women to figure out. He might, or might not, share such an idea with his wife someday.

He remembered that Shikoba's own son was missing, as she had explained. Her husband had been gone. It struck Kigipigak in that moment, he had spent so much time boasting of his own family that perhaps she felt smaller for it. Do you have any desires for more family? He broached the question carefully. The last thing Kigipigak wanted to do was offend the hunter-woman. She had been the one to bring up his sons, and the future of Natigvik.
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kigipigak need not worry to offend shikoba, she often liked his proud nature anyways. he proved himself to be a trustworthy winter hawk of moon glow and of kukutux, it would take much more for him to ruffle her feathers. she was glad that he seemed so stable and happy with his evergrowing family. nativgik was something special with the blood that coursed through the veins of the wolves of the river.

the question is politely returned, though she notes his quiet way of asking. she smiles and shakes her head. "I had hoped for a daughter," she admitted for a moment, "but am getting old. I do not want to leave my children so soon when time comes." it was a cruel and selfish thing, at least to the native, to have children at an older age only to leave them when they are young and still figuring out the world. 

mojag was meant to have siblings, but they were born to be spirit walkers. perhaps she took comfort in the fact that they walked alongside him on his journey away from home. "mojag is my son. my greatest and only." she says this pridefully, knowing that so long as her blood remained in the boy, he would find a way to thrive wherever he was. "but it would be nice if he took a wife, and lived happy." 

this was what mattered most, anyways. she can hear the rustling of feathers, ptarmigans that have to yet changed to the color of snowdrift. she pauses, looking towards the backbone to see if a sidequest hunt would be of interest. it would be just like old times.
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