Who did not know what an aana was? Likely someone like Aivar, who did not have one, running away from whatever home life he dealt with in what Nutuyikruk imagined were large mountains with monstrous bears. A kind with tall bodies, adapted to outrun beasts that were not their own selves.

“You do not have an aana?” It took by surprise first, mostly how it left her own mouth after she concluded her answer! “If you did, she’d have taught you a normal man’s ability of at least cleanly ripping skin from flesh like a feral.” Imagining the boy grabbing ahold of a caribou and pulling wildly to get terrible quality pelt patches off.. was terribly easy! And quite very, very funny.

“The mother of your mother? Mother of my mother.” Older, wiser. Less dumb than their own selves watching fish eat for fun. But it was so interesting! “Ah,” a realization. “A grand,” questioning, “mother?” Yes, that was of most people’s terms.
Aivar likely knew not of an aana, but a grandma! “I’m so sorry! I am sure you have many grand-mothers!”