Festival Song

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"Come on Shuule, you have to make an appearance."

Ukko was begging his spouse to get up from her bed, now a real hide mattress stuffed with straw and down feathers that he had finally constructed. She was wrapped up into the furs, head buried in her new pillow that he had also sewn, her eyes squeezed tight. Set wasn't helping, ignoring them in a snake bun.

It was mid day, the air was cool, with a strong crisp bite as Autumn was starting to wain. The only reason Shuule was holed up in her blankets was because she didn't want to go to the Cub Festival, which was explained to her as a festival that celebrated all the conceptions from the years rainy season. 'It's just called that, it's not just about the cubs.' Ukko brushed off, but Shuule had turned her nose up.