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Description
Long ago, before the ice, before the ground, before language and beasts, there was the Realm of the Gods and Spirits. The Gods lived in darkness, comfortable but frightened of the monsters that lied beyond. They wanted something to cherish and behold, and so they began to build. But the darkness was too deep, too black, and they could not create as they wished. And so the Gods created fire to light their projects. They gathered it up into one place, creating the Great Fireball, the Sun. They put it far above their heads as to illuminate all that they were building.

The Sun shined down, creating glistening pillars on which the soil that the Gods created could be supported. They sculpted the mountains and the plants piece by piece, making sure that only perfection graced their eyes. They created the animals and beasts to wander about their lands. They brought water for all to drink or live within if they so chose. But the Gods found that they were unable to keep up. They grew tired and weary after creating such glorious sights. They knew they needed help to finish, and so they plucked a new animal from one they had already, reshaping it to become better and smarter. They called these new animals humans, and put them to work.

But the Gods were infected with the curse of arrogance. They upheld themselves one and all as kings and queens over what they had built. The humans were miserable as they were forced to slave away, but lacked the ability to say no. It was only when the Spirits looked upon the world and felt pity for the humans that things began to change. A Great Dragon sneaked down to the Earth, a piece of the Sun in its talons. It went to a chosen human, one with the strength of the Gods when given the chance to fight, and placed the piece of the sun in her heart. The human's eyes turned bright gold and widened in revelation. Her soul had been illuminated, just as the land she walked upon was. The Spirits had entrusted her with the most powerful gift of all: freewill.

The human ran from her prison, taking with her other humans whom she spread the gift of freewill to. They snuck into the wilderness, crafting their hoods and robes from the animals that the Spirits guided them towards. They planned, the humans and Spirits, to cast out the Gods. The Chosen Women met with the Great Eagle, the kindest spirit of all, and together, they began a war. The world, so delicately sculpted in the beginning, had been thrown into utter chaos and violence. Blood rained from the skies, the oceans froze over, the earth spat fire. In the end, the Chosen Woman realized how much destruction their rebellion had caused. In her guilt, she decided to avenge it all.

She traveled beneath the world, to the pillars that held up the ground. She destroyed them all, toppling the world, sending it back into the darkness; gods, humans, and spirits alike. A great smoke overtook the sky, blotting out the sun. All light was gone from the world, and the beings of the realm were lost again.

But there was still one source of light in the darkness. In the hearts of men and women, there still lies the piece of the sun, the gift of freewill, that offers a light in the darkness. Those lights came together, strong hearts connecting to form another Great Fireball. The Great Eagle carried them to the sky to illuminate what remained of the world. Their heat was not as intense, but their light was brighter than any before. The cold still sprout from the darkness to engulf the land year after year, bringing snow and ice in hopes of freezing the world in its grip. But the Sun always returned to cast it away in the end. It guarded us, protected us, and keeps us warm to this day.

The Great Eagle circles the world every day, the Sun in its grip, trying to warm all the lands before the darkness returns. Many say that his great nest lies beyond the ice, over the horizon to which it descends every night, in one of the last remaining pillars of the first world. The lands around this nest are luscious and warm, full of animals to eat and sunlight to play in. It is a heavenly place, and the legends speak of a noble chieftess that will one day lead the people of these bitter lands to this paradise. And then all will be well...

------------

May 21, 12992 BCE; Siberia

“Who is this chieftess, mama?” Arktalaki asked, staring wide-eyed and awe-filled at the wall paintings in front of her. Her mother chuckled and smiled.

“Well, nobody knows, my little snowflake. They are a mystery to us all, and all we can do is wait for when they come.”

“I hope I get to meet them one day!”

Her mother chuckled again and ruffled her hair. “Hopefully you will, my little snowflake. A beautiful little girl like you deserves to live in a paradise like the Land Beyond the Sun.”

“Is this why we always move to the East? Are we trying to reach the Land Beyond the Sun?”

“Indeed it is. Our people move that way in hopes that the Great Chieftess will come to us one day and lead us to the end of the journey. Until then we wonder East, surviving the harsh ice and the wild beasts and living on so that our people may reach our paradise.”

Arktalaki stared in awe at her mother. She absorbed every word of the legend. She loved all the stories she was told by her friends and family, tales of gods and monsters and spirits and heroes. She hoped that one day she could live up to the heroes in the stories, the hooded rebels and the Great Chieftess. She wanted to be like them, freedom fighters that would carry them away from all the pain they endure. She hated that her tribe had to face such dangers. The ice and snow that remain behind after the wrathful winters, the beasts that prowl the forests looking for any chance to attack, and the worst threat of them all… the Mahanuq tribe. The very name struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest tribes across the land. The Mahanuq had no hearts, no sense of mercy. They simply wanted to kill and conquer. They were known to bring all of their warriors upon a settlement in the middle of the night, fire and spears in their hands and evil in their hearts. They kill any person they see and drink their blood until they simply grow bored and leave whatever and whoever is left to burn. Arktalaki and the rest of the Yi’alut tribe had been lucky enough to avoid such raids. They had encountered outliers, Mahanuq warlords who wander the lands not in search of paradise but in search of new blood. They came demanding loot or else they would send the raid, and so the elders handed over many skins and food and were lucky enough to have appeased them. It was a rough winter that year with so many supplies lost, but they were at least alive. Arktalaki had many nightmares about the Mahanuq, and she prayed to the spirits that they would not come again.

But for now, they were safe. She had her mother and her father and all of her siblings and friends. She had her tribe, and they all loved her dearly, and she took the greatest comfort in that fact.

Speaking of which, her mother suddenly stood from the fireplace and took her hand.

“Come, Arktalaki. The hunters should be returning soon. It will be time to eat.”

“Will we have mammoth tonight, mama?”

Her mother laughed. “Those beasts are rather difficult to bring down, but I know our hunters are certainly clever and strong-willed enough to accomplish that great feat if they tried.”

“Yay!”

“Come now, little snowflake. To the fire circle.”

Arktalaki nodded and gleefully followed her mother to the middle of the cave that the tribe had settled in for the past few days. All of the tribe had gathered in the warmth of the room to talk and laugh and wait for the hunters to return to them with food. The elders sat at the edge, watching over their people, glad to be amongst them. Arktalaki sat down with her mother, fidgeting in enthusiastic anticipation.

Not long after, a huge cheer went up in the fire circle as everyone looked towards the entrance. Arktalaki spun around and nearly jumped right up when she saw the hunters come marching in, prey in tow. Amongst them was her father, who smiled upon seeing her and rushed up to hug her once the hunters put down their kills and passed them onto the tribespeople to cut and cook as they pleased.

“I missed you, my little snowflake!” he father said, bringing her mother in for a group hug. “And you, my dearest.”

“It's good to see you returning, my darling. Your daughter was antsy for some mammoth meat,” her mother laughed.

Her father laughed as well. “Well, I'm sorry to say we didn't come across a herd of the beasts tonight. Perhaps next time, Arktalaki.”

“Okay papa,” Arktalaki said, grateful just to be with the people she loved.

They all sat and grabbed a few cuts of meat from one of the caribou that were brought in. Arktalaki laughed and talked and enjoyed another lovely night with her tribe. So what if the winter blizzard was raging outside? Inside was warming to the body and the heart.

Arktalaki finished her first cut after a bit and wiped her mouth. Her mother giggled at her and ruffled her hair. Arktalaki smiled and reached behind her to grab her second cut. She was surprised, however, when her hand only touched stone. She flipped around where she sat and gasped when she spotted her cut of meat. It was in the mouth of a wolf pup, being carried away towards the exit. “Hey!” she said, running after it.

She ran through the cave as she gave chase to the pup and quickly gained on it. The pup made a wrong turn and found itself cornered at a dead end. It looked around frantically for a way out before turning around just in time to have the meat pulled away from it by Arktalaki, who immediately backed up. “Stealing isn't good,” she told it. Then she got a real good look at the pup. It was small, and a bit thin. It looked up at her with big, pleading eyes. It kept its paw up in the air, and Arktalaki quickly spotted the reason why: she had a big bloody cut in her leg. The pup was shaking, whining. Arktalaki’s heart felt much heavier all of a sudden.

“Oh…” she said. The pup whined again. Arktalaki looked down at the cut of meat in her hands, and then stepped forward towards the pup. The pup cowered back a bit when she approached, but when she saw her reach her arm out slowly to offer the meat back, she slowly started limping forward. The pup looked at the meat, then at Arktalaki, who smiled and nodded, before finally snapping its jaws onto it and gobbling it up, practically in one gulp. Arktalaki smiled and giggled. “There you go. You need it more than I do,” she said.

The pup looked up at her, eyes wide. Arktalaki took a slow, cautious step forward. She reached out her hand towards its head. The pup recoiled away a bit when her hand got close, but she managed to gently pat its fur for a brief moment. The pup jumped a bit and growled at first, causing Arktalaki to pull back in fear. But she regained her courage and tried again, brushing the pup a couple times more. The pup growled again, but it softened. It started realizing that she meant no harm and after a few awkward minutes finally allowed itself to be pet. It even limped closer when it realized Arktalaki’s body heat offered a kind warmth. Arktalaki smiled. “There there, girl, it's okay,” she said. She paused, looking at the state of the poor thing. “You're so skinny…”

Arktalaki suddenly stood, slowly as to not scare the pup away. “Come on girl! You can come back with me to the fire circle! We've got lots of food there! Come on!”

The pup tilted its head as she spoke. Arktalaki bent down a bit and patted her legs. “Come on! Let's go get food!”

The pup still seemed confused and a bit scared. Arktalaki huffed and thought. Eventually, she settled on just carrying the animal to the circle. She walked up and ever so carefully and gently picked up the wolf and started walking back. The wolf squirmed at first, the alarms in its head going off upon being picked up by a little girl, but it eventually calmed down, both out of liking her warmth and out of pain from her wound.

Arktalaki reached the circle and stumbled over to her parents, who turned to face her.

“Ah! There you are, my little snowflake!” her father said. “We were wondering where you had wandered off t-”

He suddenly noticed the dark blob of fur resting in Arktalaki’s arms. “Arktalaki,” he asked, “what is that?”

She held the pup forward to show her to her parents. “She's a wolf pup that wandered in looking for food,” Arktalaki explained. “Can we help her, papa? She's hurt and hungry…”

“Oh, Nanulak, look,” her mother said to her father, “It's bleeding…”

“Yes… and its size and bones tell me she must be a runt left to fend for herself by her pack. We cannot allow this poor soul to die. Come, Arktalaki. Bring her here.”

Arktalaki smiled and brought the pup closer to the fire to help warm it up. Her father stood and went to the other side of the room to pull the shaman away from his conversation. He explained the problem and the two came right over.

“Here girl, let me see the pup,” the shaman said.

She did as she was asked and carefully passed the pup into the arms of the shaman. He examined it carefully and took it over to his tent. Arktalaki eagerly followed. The Shaman began grabbing the herbs and berries that he kept around him. He chewed up a handful of berries and returned them to his cupped hand once they were mush.

“Arktalaki, hold the wolf,” he asked. “This will hurt her only for a moment.”

Arktalaki nodded and held the pup, keeping it steady and her hands out of reach of its teeth. The shaman grabbed a pinch of the mush and, as gently as he could, pushed it into the pup’s wound and smeared it. The animal howled in pain and tried to thrash out of Arktalaki’s grip. The little girl petted it and made calming coos to it, trying to calm it down. The pup looked up at her and whined as the pain receded and it stopped resisting. The shaman then grabbed a long leaf and gently placed it over the wound and smoothed it over. The wolf pup looked down at the job well done, clearly feeling much better.

“There,” said the shaman. “That should make her better soon.”

Arktalaki gave the brightest smile and stroked the wolf's fur. It turned to her, wagging its tail, and licked her face. She giggled, as did the shaman and her parents.

“You are very lucky, my little snowflake,” her father said. “The wolf has taken a liking to you. It is a sign of great fortune. The Spirits must smile upon you as much as we do.”

Arktalaki simply smiled with the purest glee as she and the pup started playing a bit.

“Can she be part of our tribe, mama?” she asked. “She needs a pack to live with.”

“I see no reason why not,” her mother said. “You two clearly have a bond, and the spirits shine upon such relationships between man and beast. It tames the wolves, and teaches love to the person.”

“Thank you, mama!”

Her mother chuckled and ruffled her hair. “She will need a name, though. Something to call out whenever you are in need. A name as important as your own.”

Arktalaki thought about it. Names should be given quite a lot of thought. They are a crucial part of a person's identity. It is who they start as, a reminder of who they either choose to full-heartedly become or vehemently reject. Arktalaki’s own name was a simple one, but a powerful one. Her people's word for ‘eagle’, like the one in the stories she grew up with, the one that she aspired to find and be like. She considered a name for the wolf, thinking of all the adventures the two of them may go one in days to come. She made her decision.

“Iwakuk,” she said with a grin. “Her name is Iwakuk.”

Her people's word for friend.

Description
Long ago, before the ice, before the ground, before language and beasts, there was the Realm of the Gods and Spirits. The Gods lived in darkness, comfortable but frightened of the monsters that lied beyond. They wanted something to cherish and behold, and so they began to build. But the darkness was too deep, too black, and they could not create as they wished. And so the Gods created fire to light their projects. They gathered it up into one place, creating the Great Fireball, the Sun. They put it far above their heads as to illuminate all that they were building.

The Sun shined down, creating glistening pillars on which the soil that the Gods created could be supported. They sculpted the mountains and the plants piece by piece, making sure that only perfection graced their eyes. They created the animals and beasts to wander about their lands. They brought water for all to drink or live within if they so chose. But the Gods found that they were unable to keep up. They grew tired and weary after creating such glorious sights. They knew they needed help to finish, and so they plucked a new animal from one they had already, reshaping it to become better and smarter. They called these new animals humans, and put them to work.

But the Gods were infected with the curse of arrogance. They upheld themselves one and all as kings and queens over what they had built. The humans were miserable as they were forced to slave away, but lacked the ability to say no. It was only when the Spirits looked upon the world and felt pity for the humans that things began to change. A Great Dragon sneaked down to the Earth, a piece of the Sun in its talons. It went to a chosen human, one with the strength of the Gods when given the chance to fight, and placed the piece of the sun in her heart. The human's eyes turned bright gold and widened in revelation. Her soul had been illuminated, just as the land she walked upon was. The Spirits had entrusted her with the most powerful gift of all: freewill.

The human ran from her prison, taking with her other humans whom she spread the gift of freewill to. They snuck into the wilderness, crafting their hoods and robes from the animals that the Spirits guided them towards. They planned, the humans and Spirits, to cast out the Gods. The Chosen Women met with the Great Eagle, the kindest spirit of all, and together, they began a war. The world, so delicately sculpted in the beginning, had been thrown into utter chaos and violence. Blood rained from the skies, the oceans froze over, the earth spat fire. In the end, the Chosen Woman realized how much destruction their rebellion had caused. In her guilt, she decided to avenge it all.

She traveled beneath the world, to the pillars that held up the ground. She destroyed them all, toppling the world, sending it back into the darkness; gods, humans, and spirits alike. A great smoke overtook the sky, blotting out the sun. All light was gone from the world, and the beings of the realm were lost again.

But there was still one source of light in the darkness. In the hearts of men and women, there still lies the piece of the sun, the gift of freewill, that offers a light in the darkness. Those lights came together, strong hearts connecting to form another Great Fireball. The Great Eagle carried them to the sky to illuminate what remained of the world. Their heat was not as intense, but their light was brighter than any before. The cold still sprout from the darkness to engulf the land year after year, bringing snow and ice in hopes of freezing the world in its grip. But the Sun always returned to cast it away in the end. It guarded us, protected us, and keeps us warm to this day.

The Great Eagle circles the world every day, the Sun in its grip, trying to warm all the lands before the darkness returns. Many say that his great nest lies beyond the ice, over the horizon to which it descends every night, in one of the last remaining pillars of the first world. The lands around this nest are luscious and warm, full of animals to eat and sunlight to play in. It is a heavenly place, and the legends speak of a noble chieftess that will one day lead the people of these bitter lands to this paradise. And then all will be well...

------------

May 21, 12992 BCE; Siberia

“Who is this chieftess, mama?” Arktalaki asked, staring wide-eyed and awe-filled at the wall paintings in front of her. Her mother chuckled and smiled.

“Well, nobody knows, my little snowflake. They are a mystery to us all, and all we can do is wait for when they come.”

“I hope I get to meet them one day!”

Her mother chuckled again and ruffled her hair. “Hopefully you will, my little snowflake. A beautiful little girl like you deserves to live in a paradise like the Land Beyond the Sun.”

“Is this why we always move to the East? Are we trying to reach the Land Beyond the Sun?”

“Indeed it is. Our people move that way in hopes that the Great Chieftess will come to us one day and lead us to the end of the journey. Until then we wonder East, surviving the harsh ice and the wild beasts and living on so that our people may reach our paradise.”

Arktalaki stared in awe at her mother. She absorbed every word of the legend. She loved all the stories she was told by her friends and family, tales of gods and monsters and spirits and heroes. She hoped that one day she could live up to the heroes in the stories, the hooded rebels and the Great Chieftess. She wanted to be like them, freedom fighters that would carry them away from all the pain they endure. She hated that her tribe had to face such dangers. The ice and snow that remain behind after the wrathful winters, the beasts that prowl the forests looking for any chance to attack, and the worst threat of them all… the Mahanuq tribe. The very name struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest tribes across the land. The Mahanuq had no hearts, no sense of mercy. They simply wanted to kill and conquer. They were known to bring all of their warriors upon a settlement in the middle of the night, fire and spears in their hands and evil in their hearts. They kill any person they see and drink their blood until they simply grow bored and leave whatever and whoever is left to burn. Arktalaki and the rest of the Yi’alut tribe had been lucky enough to avoid such raids. They had encountered outliers, Mahanuq warlords who wander the lands not in search of paradise but in search of new blood. They came demanding loot or else they would send the raid, and so the elders handed over many skins and food and were lucky enough to have appeased them. It was a rough winter that year with so many supplies lost, but they were at least alive. Arktalaki had many nightmares about the Mahanuq, and she prayed to the spirits that they would not come again.

But for now, they were safe. She had her mother and her father and all of her siblings and friends. She had her tribe, and they all loved her dearly, and she took the greatest comfort in that fact.

Speaking of which, her mother suddenly stood from the fireplace and took her hand.

“Come, Arktalaki. The hunters should be returning soon. It will be time to eat.”

“Will we have mammoth tonight, mama?”

Her mother laughed. “Those beasts are rather difficult to bring down, but I know our hunters are certainly clever and strong-willed enough to accomplish that great feat if they tried.”

“Yay!”

“Come now, little snowflake. To the fire circle.”

Arktalaki nodded and gleefully followed her mother to the middle of the cave that the tribe had settled in for the past few days. All of the tribe had gathered in the warmth of the room to talk and laugh and wait for the hunters to return to them with food. The elders sat at the edge, watching over their people, glad to be amongst them. Arktalaki sat down with her mother, fidgeting in enthusiastic anticipation.

Not long after, a huge cheer went up in the fire circle as everyone looked towards the entrance. Arktalaki spun around and nearly jumped right up when she saw the hunters come marching in, prey in tow. Amongst them was her father, who smiled upon seeing her and rushed up to hug her once the hunters put down their kills and passed them onto the tribespeople to cut and cook as they pleased.

“I missed you, my little snowflake!” he father said, bringing her mother in for a group hug. “And you, my dearest.”

“It's good to see you returning, my darling. Your daughter was antsy for some mammoth meat,” her mother laughed.

Her father laughed as well. “Well, I'm sorry to say we didn't come across a herd of the beasts tonight. Perhaps next time, Arktalaki.”

“Okay papa,” Arktalaki said, grateful just to be with the people she loved.

They all sat and grabbed a few cuts of meat from one of the caribou that were brought in. Arktalaki laughed and talked and enjoyed another lovely night with her tribe. So what if the winter blizzard was raging outside? Inside was warming to the body and the heart.

Arktalaki finished her first cut after a bit and wiped her mouth. Her mother giggled at her and ruffled her hair. Arktalaki smiled and reached behind her to grab her second cut. She was surprised, however, when her hand only touched stone. She flipped around where she sat and gasped when she spotted her cut of meat. It was in the mouth of a wolf pup, being carried away towards the exit. “Hey!” she said, running after it.

She ran through the cave as she gave chase to the pup and quickly gained on it. The pup made a wrong turn and found itself cornered at a dead end. It looked around frantically for a way out before turning around just in time to have the meat pulled away from it by Arktalaki, who immediately backed up. “Stealing isn't good,” she told it. Then she got a real good look at the pup. It was small, and a bit thin. It looked up at her with big, pleading eyes. It kept its paw up in the air, and Arktalaki quickly spotted the reason why: she had a big bloody cut in her leg. The pup was shaking, whining. Arktalaki’s heart felt much heavier all of a sudden.

“Oh…” she said. The pup whined again. Arktalaki looked down at the cut of meat in her hands, and then stepped forward towards the pup. The pup cowered back a bit when she approached, but when she saw her reach her arm out slowly to offer the meat back, she slowly started limping forward. The pup looked at the meat, then at Arktalaki, who smiled and nodded, before finally snapping its jaws onto it and gobbling it up, practically in one gulp. Arktalaki smiled and giggled. “There you go. You need it more than I do,” she said.

The pup looked up at her, eyes wide. Arktalaki took a slow, cautious step forward. She reached out her hand towards its head. The pup recoiled away a bit when her hand got close, but she managed to gently pat its fur for a brief moment. The pup jumped a bit and growled at first, causing Arktalaki to pull back in fear. But she regained her courage and tried again, brushing the pup a couple times more. The pup growled again, but it softened. It started realizing that she meant no harm and after a few awkward minutes finally allowed itself to be pet. It even limped closer when it realized Arktalaki’s body heat offered a kind warmth. Arktalaki smiled. “There there, girl, it's okay,” she said. She paused, looking at the state of the poor thing. “You're so skinny…”

Arktalaki suddenly stood, slowly as to not scare the pup away. “Come on girl! You can come back with me to the fire circle! We've got lots of food there! Come on!”

The pup tilted its head as she spoke. Arktalaki bent down a bit and patted her legs. “Come on! Let's go get food!”

The pup still seemed confused and a bit scared. Arktalaki huffed and thought. Eventually, she settled on just carrying the animal to the circle. She walked up and ever so carefully and gently picked up the wolf and started walking back. The wolf squirmed at first, the alarms in its head going off upon being picked up by a little girl, but it eventually calmed down, both out of liking her warmth and out of pain from her wound.

Arktalaki reached the circle and stumbled over to her parents, who turned to face her.

“Ah! There you are, my little snowflake!” her father said. “We were wondering where you had wandered off t-”

He suddenly noticed the dark blob of fur resting in Arktalaki’s arms. “Arktalaki,” he asked, “what is that?”

She held the pup forward to show her to her parents. “She's a wolf pup that wandered in looking for food,” Arktalaki explained. “Can we help her, papa? She's hurt and hungry…”

“Oh, Nanulak, look,” her mother said to her father, “It's bleeding…”

“Yes… and its size and bones tell me she must be a runt left to fend for herself by her pack. We cannot allow this poor soul to die. Come, Arktalaki. Bring her here.”

Arktalaki smiled and brought the pup closer to the fire to help warm it up. Her father stood and went to the other side of the room to pull the shaman away from his conversation. He explained the problem and the two came right over.

“Here girl, let me see the pup,” the shaman said.

She did as she was asked and carefully passed the pup into the arms of the shaman. He examined it carefully and took it over to his tent. Arktalaki eagerly followed. The Shaman began grabbing the herbs and berries that he kept around him. He chewed up a handful of berries and returned them to his cupped hand once they were mush.

“Arktalaki, hold the wolf,” he asked. “This will hurt her only for a moment.”

Arktalaki nodded and held the pup, keeping it steady and her hands out of reach of its teeth. The shaman grabbed a pinch of the mush and, as gently as he could, pushed it into the pup’s wound and smeared it. The animal howled in pain and tried to thrash out of Arktalaki’s grip. The little girl petted it and made calming coos to it, trying to calm it down. The pup looked up at her and whined as the pain receded and it stopped resisting. The shaman then grabbed a long leaf and gently placed it over the wound and smoothed it over. The wolf pup looked down at the job well done, clearly feeling much better.

“There,” said the shaman. “That should make her better soon.”

Arktalaki gave the brightest smile and stroked the wolf's fur. It turned to her, wagging its tail, and licked her face. She giggled, as did the shaman and her parents.

“You are very lucky, my little snowflake,” her father said. “The wolf has taken a liking to you. It is a sign of great fortune. The Spirits must smile upon you as much as we do.”

Arktalaki simply smiled with the purest glee as she and the pup started playing a bit.

“Can she be part of our tribe, mama?” she asked. “She needs a pack to live with.”

“I see no reason why not,” her mother said. “You two clearly have a bond, and the spirits shine upon such relationships between man and beast. It tames the wolves, and teaches love to the person.”

“Thank you, mama!”

Her mother chuckled and ruffled her hair. “She will need a name, though. Something to call out whenever you are in need. A name as important as your own.”

Arktalaki thought about it. Names should be given quite a lot of thought. They are a crucial part of a person's identity. It is who they start as, a reminder of who they either choose to full-heartedly become or vehemently reject. Arktalaki’s own name was a simple one, but a powerful one. Her people's word for ‘eagle’, like the one in the stories she grew up with, the one that she aspired to find and be like. She considered a name for the wolf, thinking of all the adventures the two of them may go one in days to come. She made her decision.

“Iwakuk,” she said with a grin. “Her name is Iwakuk.”

Her people's word for friend.