-Will we be returning to the north sea?- Kukik scarcely recalled that stony beach in which he first met his lodge father. It was a memory wrapped in a fogged haze. Much to boy's frustrations, many of his early memories were slipping from his grasp. Kukik spoke in the pidgin he and Chakliux developed. This shared tongue served as the bridge connecting the two, but Kukik wondered how he'd fair in conversation with another of the walrus hunters. Was he losing his ability to speak as he was his memories? 

This wouldn't pose the greatest problem, men were to be silent unless addressed. This was how he often remembered his father. The man a voiceless statue in the presence of his grandmother. In fairness to Hauniq, Kanangnaq was the matriach of their village.

Kukik plundered a mussel from the tide pool, gripping it tightly between his paws as he cracked the shell.

-The water grows colder. Would animal skins and flesh be more valuable this time of year?-