Redhawk Caldera defeated

He had not returned to Brecheliant after the discovery of Ariadne, as the death songs were sung, and it was only after checking on his remaining children that he finally accepted that a choice needed to be made. He would not pull them from the home they knew, not immediately — they were grieving the same as the rest of their village. Vaire had said they were a blessing to their grandparents, too; and so Kigipigak gave them time together, and went south to where he had pledged his services to his adult son.

No doubt the whole valley had heard those keening notes, those messages aiding Ariadne's spirit to where it was meant to go; perhaps some had even heard Kigipigak's cries, but by now it had been at least a week, perhaps longer, since the last of the songs. He had not kept track.

The way home felt wrong. He wanted to hold his children and be there for them. It felt like turning his back on Tautukpik and Akmaaksi; it felt like he had abandoned Nutuyikruk to the elements, as her trail had gone cold. But he had to return to Brecheliant to at least speak with @Kivaluk and @Chickadee.

As he came plodding over the border smelling more like Neverwinter than anything, Kigipigak finally stopped and took a deep breath. He called for them with a subdued note rumbling from his chest and through the trees.

in his own way, despite that ariadne and him had never necessarily been close even before she married his father, kivaluk mourns her loss. he worries for his younger half-siblings and he worries about kukutux. when kigipigak's subdued note calls for him and chickadee ... he worries for brecheliant.

with maia stepping down and his agreement to temporarily fill the role of auspex until either her decision to return to it or if the pack decided on someone they felt was more suited, kivaluk was busier than usual and carried to burden of many what if's upon his shoulders.

kigipigak, greets kivaluk solemnly.

tags for ref! <3

time among the moonwolves had taught chickadee what their songs meant. the young woman heard them over and over, distantly, and shivered. she too worried for brecheliant, a wordless sensation she could not convey to kivaluk.
when his father called for them, she exchanged a look with her husband. "@Crane, @Eagle, @Cardinal. stay here with grandma and grandpa." 
kissing their heads, she left the blackthorn den, trotting until she caught up with kivaluk's longer strides.
the pale hunter looked — rough. of course he did! he'd just lost his wife. her heart went out to him. "i'm so sorry, kigipigak."

They arrive together. While Kivaluk looks to be mourning, he holds a certain strength as well; and when his wife speaks, it is with sympathy in her tone. Kigipigak breathes. He doesn't know what he is going to say until he begins to say it, and as he speaks he lets his gaze drop to the earth.

I wanted to -- apologize, for being absent from this place. I have been hunting for my daughter Nutuyikruk; she went missing around the time of... Everything else. He did not want to speak of Ariadne. His last words about her had been for her, and now it hurt too much to even think of her. He only saw that image of her at the bottom of the lake.

The other two remain in Moonglow for now. I would like them to come here, if possible. To live here. But, he thought of how the moon wolves mourned the loss of another daughter, and how they might also mourn the loss of the children should they be removed from that environment — and the absence both Akmaaksi and Tautukpik might experience when removed, too. I don't know if it would be a good idea. To not have their mother, and then to not have those they have grown up with... I suppose I ask you both for advice.

He could not do this alone. An earlier iteration of Kigipigak would've believed otherwise.

perhaps there would always be a part of kivaluk that would feel the fester of a wound being prodded at as kigipigak speaks of not being able to leave his youngest children and always wondering if he felt that same guilt when he left for tarok so many years ago. but now was not the time to ask that question, nor was it appropriate. so, he tucks it away.

he was a man long grown now. a father. a leader. perhaps more tarok himself than he even knew.

no doubt losing her mother was hard on her, he understands that pain well. too well.

it is almost a strange thing, for his father to seek advice from him and chickadee. a weird sort of role reversal that leaves kivaluk feeling a way that he does not know how to describe. they are always welcome at brecheliant now or later, kivaluk begins. and it is important that they know that, but that they have the choice. you are their father, yes, but forcing them to come live with you and us if they don't want to will only cause discord and possibly even resentment. of course, he cannot speak for his young siblings: but he can pull from his own experiences.

you should present the option and let them choose. maybe they choose to remain at moonglow with kukutux, it is hard not to call her 'mom'. or maybe they don't. but i think it should be their choice.

and that was where he personally stood on the matter. what chickadee had to add and kigipigak chose to do with it was yet to be seen.

as kivaluk spoke, chickadee nodded slowly along. her husband was very wise, a thought that had her glancing sideways as she tried not to smile happily at his words. instead she put out a paw to touch kigipigak's shoulder gently.
"give them six months or so, maybe even nine. in brecheliant they have a year of childhood before they join the adult ranks. it's — different in moonglow. but let it be their choice either way."
she took a breath. "when i patrol, i'll look for nutuyikruk. we can even tell the others, just so we're all in the know."

They will have the choice. He agreed, understanding it was something he had not provided for Kivaluk in the past. When before, Kigipigak had brought his sons to Moonglow, and found they had not assimilated; but also now, he was glad that Akkuma had gone, and that Kivaluk now stood separated from the village himself as the leader of this place. It would be an option given to both the remaining children.

For now I will hunt for Nutuyikruk. I may be gone for a long time, but I hope it is not too long. I must hope she is not gone from us. His voice hitched and Kigipigak could not speak on it any further. He did not want to dwell on the possibility of failure. The Wilds were an expansive place with many kind people as well as dangerous ones, but he had to hope his daughter had found somewhere good, and that she remained among the living.

He was not a man that prayed easily, but found himself wishing to the spirit of Ariadne, please, do not take your children with you.

And as their conversation came to an end, Kigipigak bade them both farewell, and thanks, and turned to go.