The Tribes of Old: Symposium

The Fisherman

        The sun barely peaked over the frozen bay of the city of Inuluit. Yet the city was already bustling. Fall had just set in this side of the continent, meaning that until winter, each sunset would be greeted with fog until the sun rose back up again. This fog could be sparse, thick, heavy, swift, still. But nonetheless, the countryside would be moist till the afternoon, just before the fog set in again.

        As teams of dog sleds could be heard heading out to the woods to train or to hunt, Taqtu would rise from his bed and prep for the day. The widower took some time to make his small bed, making sure every corner of the fur cover was tucked under the thin mattress. Just as his wife had liked. After checking the furnace, he would walk to the opposite side of his abode and run a bath, letting the water get hot and steam up the covered windows. Turning around he grabbed a small, bowl-shaped cup and placed a filled filter over it. Taking a kettle, he would fill it with water from the faucet and pour it over the filter slowly, forming a tea in the cup that it fell into. Slowly getting all corners of the filter to brew it evenly. Having his desired volume, he took the metal filter out and placed the contents of it into a pot with a few purple flowers growing from it. While the tea cooled off he would strip and hop into the bath relaxing into it as the warmth soaked into his old bones.

        Afterward, he would find himself in front of a small mirror in some older clothing, plucking any stray hairs from his tightly kept mustache. Once he was done, he smoothed out the thin, salt-and-pepper hair before finishing getting dressed. Bundling up in three layers of everything, socks, pants, and shirts he slipped into his knee-high boots and tightened them around his calves before pulling a large parka over himself. The body of which covered everything but his shins. Two steps to the left over creaking floorboards and pulling the collar over the lower half of his face, he said a small prayer to a small feminine salmon totem over his doorframe before stepping outside. Taqtu would head to the side of his small house and shake the water off a tarp that covered a small sled. Doing a quick check for everything, he shook off a bucket and placed it against the handles of the sled. He glanced up to see a few other sleds out over the sound, no doubt for the same purpose as him. Once he tied the lead of the sled around his belt he pulled a pair of leather mitts from the under-pockets of his parka and slipped them over his hands and began to walk out over the bay. His sled would wobble and shake a bit over the graveled beach but steady again once over the frozen water.

        He spotted a small child, no older than six squealing as a dog pulled him along the ice over a circular metal sled. He watched the dog effortlessly run into the distance along the bay before looking forward again. Keeping his face down to avoid staring into the rising sun, he quickly found the sled marks in the ice he had carved over the last few days and followed them. Hopefully, no one would be at his usual spot.

        Some ways past the Azure mountains, aptly named for the blue hue they appeared to have in the summer sun, Taqtu stopped along his trail and stepped back to his sled. He knelt down and scraped a sizable few chunk of ice out from next to the runners, placing one piece in his mouth before dumping the rest into a metal canister before scraping up some more. Grinding the cap closed a bit, he placed the canister into his under-pockets before grabbing a walking stick from the sled. He held his raised knee and strained a bit as he pushed himself to his feet. Panting slightly, he started to walk again.

        Just as he started again, a four dogged sled would slide to a stop next to him. A small girl sitting with her mother in the cargo bay would wave to her. "Ah, if it isn't Panuk, dog trainer of myth", he said delightfully as the pilot of the sled came into view. "Lose one?" he asked, nodding to a stray dog trailing the family. Glancing behind him, Panuk scrunched his nose and shook his head as he looked back to Taqtu. "Nah, that's a stray. Might be part wolf." Panuk teased, seeing his daughter look behind them as well.

"Where's the boy?" Taqtu asked, taking one of his gloves off to pat the back of the wheel dog closest to him.

"Sick and with his grandmother. Not my mother though, hers. I may never see him again." He pointed to his wife and frowned dryly. Kirima, the woman rolled her eyes at his remark while she sat her daughter back down in front of her.

"Who's the lead?" Taqtu asked, putting his glove back on and stepping back a bit. Panuk leaned his forearms on the handlebars of the sled and nodded to the lead dog while furrowing his brow a bit "that's Togo, you've met him before." Taqtu tilted his head before giving a nod and a glance back at his own tiny sled, "well, he's getting up there. I could use the help if you don't need him anymore. Keep him occupied."

"The champ? He's worth more seals than you've caught in your life. Saved one of the princes too", Panuk replied. "I won't get rid of him."

        Taqtu sighed adjusted his belt a bit, "well, if you change your mind, I'm still kicking. Happy fishing." He waved to the two in the cargo while Panuk hiked the dogs again, pulling them away. Taqtu stood in reflection for a bit before rubbing his eyes with his covered wrist. "I have met that dog before", he said to himself, questioning the apparent lapse in memory. The click of nails would turn his attention to his side again as the stray finally came up to him. "Lost?" he asked rhetorically to the dog, who shook itself off before looking up at him with a pseudo-smile while it panted. Taqtu snickered to himself before starting to walk again, "don't do that, it's creepy."