Friday, April 10, 2020

R-stem nouns

A few days ago, I wrote a Word-of-the-Hrmm blurb about the r-stem noun tǣkra, and in it I had mentioned that the r-stems are a very rare noun class consisting of only eleven nouns in Valthungian. In Gothic, only four are attested: fadar ‘father’, swistar ‘sister’, brōþar ‘brother’, and dauhtar ‘daughter’. English has five, adding ‘mother’ to the list (which all attested Gothic had replaced with aiþei), but these aren’t a particularly special class, since noun stem classes don’t really exist in English anymore, though the irregular plural brethren is at least a hat-tip toward its r-stem past.

The r-stems as a class are unique in that they are, in a way, an actual noun class, consisting exclusively of close family members, rather than just a grammatical class based on stem configuration like the a-, i-, and u-stems. 
In Proto-Germanic there are seven nouns reconstructed as r-stems, though one of them, *aihtǣr, is not a family member, but means ‘owner’. The others are: *fadǣr, *mōdǣr, *brōþǣr, *swestǣr, *duhtǣr, and *þeuhtǣr, the last meaning ‘grandson’.

PGmc. Gothic Griutungi O.Val. M.Val. Val.
*brōþǣr brōþar *brōþar *brouðar brōðʀ brōðra ‘brother’
*duhtǣr dauhtar *dohtar *dohtar dǫtʀ dǭtra ‘daughter’
*fadǣr fadar *fadar faðar faðʀ faðra ‘father’
*mōdǣr - *mōdar *mouðar mōðʀ mōðra ‘mother’
*swestǣr swistar *swistar *swistar swistʀ swistra ‘sister’
*þeuhtǣr - *diuhtar *djuhtar dzjūtʀ ǧūtra ‘grandchild’
- *þiuhtar *þjuhtar þjūtʀ þjūtra ‘grandson’
- þjustʀ þjustra ‘granddaughter’
*taikuraz - *tǣkur *taekur tækʀ tǣkra ‘brother-in-law’
*swegrō swaihrō *swehrō *swehrou swæro swǣra ‘mother-in-law’
swaihra *swehra *swehra swæra swǣra ‘father-in-law’

The first anomaly on the winding path to Valthungian’s eleven r-stems: *þeuhtǣr ‘grandson’ came to have a parallel form of *deuhtǣr, probably a dialectal variant somewhere within East Germanic, or possibly even an early borrowing from West Germanic, but more likely an analogy with *duhtǣr ‘daughter’, as this latter form came to mean explicitly ‘granddaughter’. Around 1300ᴀᴅ, however, a new form of þjustʀ for ‘granddaughter’ was innovated in Middle Valthungian, likely an analogy with swistʀ ‘sister’, and *deuhtǣr – by this time dzjūtʀ - underwent an interesting change, being converted to a neuter noun and referring broadly to ‘grandchild’ of either sex. Nouns changing gender is very unusual – though not completely unheard-of in East Germanic – but in this case the change was logical and fairly unremarkable, as the masculine and feminine r-stem nouns had exactly the same declension, and the neuter pronoun was regularly used for plurals containing more than one gender. The only really odd thing about it is that it retains the nominative and accusative plural endings where we would normally expect no ending for the neuter. In modern Valthungian, this word may be found in any gender, as applicable.

Around the same time that Middle Valthungian þjūtʀ was giving rise to þjustʀ and dzjūtʀ was boldly defying the binary, the a-stem tækur ‘brother-in-law’ was being reanalyzed as an r-stem as well, speeding up the dropping of its unstressed vowel.

Finally, well into the age of Early Modern Valthungian, the other in-laws, now merged as swǣra, but initially with slightly different declensions, started losing some of their weak declensions to r-stem endings, possibly initially to avoid confusion during the era of “syllabic unpacking,” during which pretty much all Middle Valthungian endings containing a sonorant (m, n, r, or l) were suddenly bursting out in a flourish of vowels in occasionally unexpected places.

Structurally, the r-stems are distinguished by a few unique features. The nominative, dative, and accusative are all identical in the singular. The nominative plural shows i-umlaut in those which contain a vowel which can be umlauted. (NB: The vowels of þjūtris, þjustris, and ǧūtris are not umlauted, because they originally all come from the /iu/ diphthong which was not subject to umlaut.) The dative and accusative plurals are those of the u-stems. Finally the genitive plural shows a final –o (in Middle Valthungian –u), consistent with other genitive plurals bedecked with their new-found Latin affix, but rather than the full –aro (from –ārum) ending, only the –o carries through, perhaps because the r-stem made the rest feel redundant.

Nom.Sg. Gen.Sg. Dat.Sg. Acc.Sg. Nom.Pl. Gen.Pl. Dat.Pl. Acc.Pl.
‘brother’ brōðra brōðris brōðra brōðra brœuðris brōðro brōðrum brōðruns
‘daughter’ dǭtra dǭtris dǭtra dǭtra dœ̄tris dǭtro dǭtrum dǭtruns
‘father’ faðra faðris faðra faðra feðris faðro faðrum faðruns
‘mother’ mōðra mōðris mōðra mōðra mœuðris mōðro mōðrum mōðruns
‘sister’ swistra swistris swistra swistra swistris swistro swistrum swistruns
‘grandchild’ ǧūtra ǧūtris ǧūtra ǧūtra ǧūtris ǧūtro ǧūtrum ǧūtruns
‘grandson’ þjūtra þjūtris þjūtra þjūtra þjūtris þjūtro þjūtrum þjūtruns
‘granddaughter’ þjustra þjustris þjustra þjustra þjustris þjustro þjustrum þjustruns
‘brother-in-law’ tǣkra tǣkris tǣkra tǣkra tǣkris tǣkro tǣkrum tǣkruns
‘mother-in-law’ swǣra swǣris swǣra swǣra swǣris swǣro swǣrum swǣruns
‘father-in-law’ swǣra swǣris swǣra swǣra swǣris swǣro swǣrum swǣruns

The r-stems – and, indeed, most familial nouns in Valthungian – tend to be more highly specialized than English, most having some sort of indication of patrilineage. Among the above terms, *þeuhtǣr and all of its descendants, while they do translate to ‘grandchild’, all refer specifically to children of the son. The daughter’s children are all variants of aninkilþ. Also tǣkra fails to cover the entire semantic space of ‘brother-in-law’, referring only to the brother of one’s spouse, while the husband of one’s sibling is ǣðums.

For reference, here are some of the family members beyond the r-stems:
  • aunt, father’s sister: faða (ō-stem)
  • aunt, mother’s sister: mœuðria (jǭ-stem)
  • brother: brōðra (r-stem)
  • brother-in-law, sibling’s husband: ǣðums (a-stem), swigra-brōðra (r-stem) 
  • brother-in-law, spouse’s brother: tǣkra (r-stem), swigra-brōðra (r-stem) 
  • daughter: dǭtra (r-stem)
  • daughter-in-law: brūþs (i-stem), snuža (ō-stem) 
  • father: faðra (r-stem), āta (ô-stem)
  • father-in-law: swǣra (r-stem) 
  • grandafather, mother’s father: auga (ô-stem)
  • grandchild, daughter’s child: aninkilþ (a-stem, neuter)
  • grandchild, son’s child: ǧūtra (r-stem, neuter)
  • granddaughter, daughter’s daughter: aninkilði (į̄-stem)
  • granddaughter, son’s daughter: þjustra (r-stem)
  • grandfather, father’s father: ana (ô-stem)
  • grandmother, father’s mother: atna (ǭ-stem)
  • grandmother, mother’s mother: atma (ǭ-stem)
  • grandson, daughter’s son: aninkilþs (a-stem)
  • grandson, son’s son: þjūtra (r-stem)
  • mother: mōðra (r-stem), ǣði (į̄-stem) 
  • mother-in-law: swǣra (r-stem) 
  • nephew, brother’s son: sūtruǧa (jô-stem)
  • nephew, sister’s son: niva (ô-stem)
  • niece, brother’s daughter: nift (i-stem)
  • niece, sister’s daughter: nifča (jô-stem)
  • sister: swistra (r-stem)
  • sister-in-law, sibling’s wife: swigra-swistra (r-stem) 
  • sister-in-law, spouse’s sister: swigra-swistra (r-stem) 
  • son: sunus (u-stem)
  • son-in-law: mēǧ (a-stem) 
  • uncle, father’s brother: faðruǧa (jô-stem)
  • uncle, mother’s brother: augahǣms (a-stem)

Friday, April 3, 2020

WotM Valthungian: tǣkra

Tǣkra [ˈte̞ːkrɑ] n. brother-in-law; spouse’s brother.

Edit: The genitive plural in the image should be tǣkro. That’s what you get for automation!

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Teens and Prosody in Early Modern Valthungian

Aside from sone regularizing of the orthography, one of the key features that distinguishes Middle Valthungian from Modern is a series of changes made to the vowels. All of the “weak” vowels present in Middle Valthungian – the schwas, the lax vowels, and the syllabic sonorants – were either elided completely or strengthened / fortified / tensed. This is a secondary process to the Old Valthungian “Vowel Tensing” that was experienced some thousand years previously after the language’s initial sustained contact with Latin.

The most immediately noticeable result of this is in infinitives, gerunds, and 3pl. present verbs which suddenly end in –na(þ)(s) after the syllabic /n̩/ in the ending was forced back into a sonorant-vowel sequence. (At some point I’ll put together another post about the complexities of how to figure out whether an infinitive should have –na or –an, but that’s for another day.)

A slightly less immediately apparent consequence of this fortition is a type of epenthesis which has often been attributed to the language’s proximity to certain types of poetry, but the result is that unstressed mystery syllables occasionally spring up unbidden to maintain the language’s iambic nature, especially in words containing more than one stressed vowel. By the beginning of the seventeenth century, it was almost impossible to find any word with two consecutive stressed syllables.

Epenthesis of this kind didn’t usually alter the words themselves much aside from having an extra vowel to play with (usually /a/), but in some particularly changeable classes of words, the changes were more extensive. The best example of this is the series of “teen” numbers (13‒19).

13 — Thirteen itself is kind of an anomaly in Valthungian. Historically it seems to have had two forms as far back as the Gothic era, where Griutungi *þrītehun and *þrijatehun are assumed to have been used in free variation, and indeed both þrītǣn and þrižjetǣn were found in Middle Valthungian. However, þrītǣn fell out of use in Middle Valthungian, after which exclusively þrižatǣn is found in the language. This is notable here only because it demonstrates that this number did not undergo epenthesis like the others, settling instead on an alternate form. Had the þrižjetǣn form disappeared earlier, we would expect epenthesis in this number to look more like **þrījatǣn. One more mystery to add to this number is that from þrīžjetǣn we would normally expect **þrīžitǣn in the modern language – with an /i/ – rather than þrižatǣn. Theories abound, but the generally accepted explanation is that /a/ was assimilated by analogy with the following teen numbers. 

14 — Fourteen is a little less interesting. The only change there is that the “emphasis form,” fiður, was replaced in most compounds by the more lax form, resulting in fiðratǣn replacing all previous instances of fiðurtǣn

15 — Fifteen is the first to really undergo true epenthesis, initially by analogy with fiðratǣn before it. At this time, fim ‘five’ had already lost its final –f, but it was retained in the compound fimf-tǣn, and /a/ was added unceremoniously after it. This sequence of /mfat/, awkward at best, initially seems to have caused a reduplication of the /t/, likely by analogy with the ordinal fimfta, but the form fimftatǣn disappeared as quickly as it had appeared sometime in the mid eighteenth century.

16 — Sixteen built on fifteen’s weirdness, but kept the reduplicated /t/, and sǣstǣn quickly became and remained sǣstatǣn.

17 — Seventeen followed in the manner of fourteen, with a lax form sivnatǣn replacing earlier sivuntǣn, though sivuntǣn is still occasionally found as an alternative (whereas fiðurtǣn has vanished completely).

18 — Eighteen is the only “regular” teen, āta already having a handy unstressed syllable built in: ātatǣn.

19 — Nineteen faces the same awkwardness as fifteen, and while the “proper, correct, and official” rendering is njunatǣn, the occasional njundatǣn still occurs in the wild, which is even more problematic than fimftatǣn, because /d/ is not something that should ever occur in that position, the ordinal of nine being njunþa, rather than the more Gothic-flavoured **njunda.

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Style Crumbs: Avoid Repetition in “ǭk ǭk”

Minor grammar note: Well, really more of a style note, I guess, since it’s not really “wrong,” per se… In Valthungian, one of the various words for “and” is ǭk (cognate with German auch, Swedish och, Old Norse ok, &c.) This ultimately comes from the class 7 strong verb *aukaną ‘to increase; to augment’. In Valthungian, *aukaną becomes ǭkna ‘to add.’

I was just writing up a recipe, and it turns out there are a lot of instances of “…and add…” which readily translates to “…ǭk ǭk…” which sounds dumb.

So new rule from the Valthungian Manual of Style’s guide to prescriptivist journalism: Use the suffix form in cases like this! Hence, “ǭku” (cf. Gothic auk-uh), which sounds much nicer!

WotM Valthungian: agiþǣša

I’d like to start posting a regular “Word-of-the-Day,” but I’m still getting settled on a decent format to use. Actually, it will be more of a “Word-of-the-Moment,” because I know I’m not disciplined enough to put something up consistently every day.

Please bear with me while I get some of the technical stuff sorted out and figure out the best way to post and keep this updated! In the meantime, here’s the first take:

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Aesop's Fables: The Goatherd and the Goat

I haven’t posted about Maltcégj in a while, so here’s a little translation I did today:

aknatcéi ulaðrói’l ei natcéi’l

dydgiksá’m natcéi mrástanaho nétcni, rakfák pul zatcínt uğmína. dydbjýn badtcǫ́c nem aknatcéi ulaðrói’l pʌ́a, mal márdjal wirb. bleg dydnagɮatnúc pʌ. dydbrán nos pul éþryla, ei dydẏakt pul pája, ei dydnaxád paj ubícta natcéi’l. dydék cax aknatcéi ulaðrói’lok.

“vreiblegðák laðvéiǧulað,” dyðbrám pul natcéi’la.

“blei,” dydðák natcéi’l, “patáx ðak mes bict raknaxáduli péibji.”

blegnagkanrakstafád akólks.

The Goatherd & the Goat

A Goat strayed away from the flock, tempted by a patch of clover. The Goatherd tried to call it back, but in vain. It would not obey him. Then he picked up a stone and threw it, breaking the Goat’s horn.
The Goatherd was frightened.

“Do not tell the master,” he begged the Goat.

“No,” said the Goat, “that broken horn can speak for itself!”

Wicked deeds will not stay hid.

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

The Valthungian Calendar & The Measurement of Time

The Valthungian Calendar is fairly complex, compared to most, and that is largely due to trying to cram three different competing calendar systems into one. It didn’t work, and at a certain point they just cut their losses and kept using the monstrous system they had.

Ultimately, the calendar is a fairly standard solar calendar, beginning each new year on the Winter Solstice. The coming year, 2020, will be 1610 in the Valthungian Calendar. Years are numbered starting from the Sacking of Rome in 410ad; to calculate the Valthungian year, simply subtract 410 from the current Gregorian year unless you happen to be in the period between the Winter Solstice and January 1st, in which case you should probably find something more productive to do.

The year consists of twenty-eight overlapping months: the standard Gregorian twelve (because it remains important to keep in sync with the rest of the world) and sixteen traditional months: eight standard and eight “short months.” The months are based on the same astronomical calculations that make up the twenty-four Solar Terms of the Chinese calendar, though not every Solar Term is a month. A new months starts at the beginning of each zodiac sign and at each of the four “cross-quarters,” i.e. the points between the solstices and equinoxes.

Most long months last from 29 to 31 days, while short months are between 14 and 16 days long. Short and long months are always paired, so two long months will always be followed by two short months, and vice versa.

The sixteen traditional Valthungian months:

The traditional months are mostly named for traditional Germanic months, and have many counterparts in Old English, Old High German, and others.

Ǧulis (long) ‘Yule’
Langistmēnaþs (short) ‘Longest Month’
Halbwastra (short) ‘Half Spring’
Maltimēnaþs (long) ‘Melting Month’
Wyniamēnaþs (long) ‘Joyous Month’
Milukmēnaþs (short) ‘Milk Month’
Halbsumbra (short) ‘Half Summer’
Sutnamēnaþs (long) ‘Sun Month’
Linþis (long) ‘Lithe’
Haugimēnaþs (short) ‘Hay Month’
Halbharvist (short) ‘Half Harvest’
Wiðumēnaþs (long) ‘Wood Month’
Wīnmēnaþs (long) ‘Wine Month’
Blōtmēnaþs (short) ‘Sacrifice Month’
Halbwintrus (short) ‘Half Winter’
Wintrumēnaþs (long) ‘Winter Month’

The twelve Gregorian Months:

The Gregorian months are fairly unambiguously ported over from the Roman calendar, though some confusion did arise between the traditional month of Ǧulis and the Gregorian month of Ǧulismēnaþs, leading to some outrageous conspiracy theories (see here, for example).

Ǧanismēnaþs ‘John's Month’
Fǣvrismēnaþs ‘Fevria's Month’
Merčismēnaþs ‘Mars' Month’
Ǣprilismēnaþs ‘April's Month’
Mǣǧismēnaþs ‘May's Month’
Ǧunismēnaþs ‘Junius' Month’
Ǧulismēnaþs ‘Julius' Month’
Augustismēnaþs ‘August's Month’
Sivunþamēnaþs ‘Seventh Month’
Ātuðamēnaþs ‘Eighth Month’
Njunþamēnaþs ‘Ninth Month’
Tǣjunþamēnaþs ‘Tenth Month’

A typical Valthungian calendar combines these two systems generally with the traditional dates at the top of each cell and the Gregorian at the bottom. See, for example, the first few weeks of the coming year:

(You can also see from the example that the words mēnaþs ‘month’ and daǧ ‘day’ are left off most calendars as unnecessary.)

The days of the week:

Also fairly obviously Germanic are the days of the week:

Sōgilisdaǧ ‘Sunday’ “Sun’s Day”
Mēninsdaǧ ‘Monday’ “Moon’s Day”
Tījugisdaǧ ‘Tuesday’ “Tīwaz’ Day”
Wōðnisdaǧ ‘Wednesday’ “Wōdanaz’ Day”
Þīfunsdaǧ ‘Thursday’ “Thunder’s Day”
Frižisdaǧ ‘Friday’ “Love’s Day”
Lǭgisdaǧ  ‘Saturday’ “Laundry Day”

Friday, November 1, 2019

Grammar Crumbs: Preposition 𝑢𝑓 for ‘in’ re: Languages

When talking about speaking or writing or understanding something in a language, use the preposition uf.  E.g.:
Hit ist uf angliškan skrivnas.‘This is written in English.’
The name of the language is always in the dative, almost always –an, because most languages are really just a weak feminine adjective omitting the word “language,” though you may find it written out in full as well, e.g. uftiža rasta grējutungiškan ‘in the Valthungian language’.

Though it wasn’t intentional, this is funny to me, because it looks and sounds reminiscent of German auf, which is used for language in the same context (“auf Deutsch”) but has exactly the opposite underlying meaning. So in each of these Germanic languages, a different preposition is used:
English ‘in’ – In French
German ‘on’ – Auf Französisch*
Valthungian ‘under’ – Uf Frankiškan
*One could also say im Französischen, but that’s another grammar crumb for someone else’s blog.

Saturday, October 26, 2019

Grammar Crumbs: Articles and Body Parts

Grammar quirk: Valthungian has two definite articles – his and – which are inherited from the Germanic proximal and medial demonstratives, *hiz and *sa, respectively. is usually the default (as became the case in most Germanic languages), but you can use his if your “the” feels more “this-y” than “that-y.”

However, when referring to personal body parts, always use his for your own and for others’.

E.g. ‘my heart’ is always hit herta mīna – never þat herta mīna; conversely, you would never say hit herta þīna – always þat.

Some other useful body parts:

“mine” “yours”
hair: his hast mīna sā hast þīna
head: hit hǭviþ mīna þat hǭviþ þīna
brain: hit hežne mīna þat hežne þīna
eyes: hīj·ǭgnas mīnan þ·ōgnas þīnan
nose: hīja nasa mīna sō nasa þīna
ears: hīja hǭsana mīnan þō hǭsana þīnan
mouth: his munþs mīna sā munþs þīna
tongue: hīja tunga mīna sō tunga þīna
teeth: hīs tynþis mīnans þǣ tynþis þīnans
throat: his hals mīna sā hals þīna
neck: his þnaka mīna sā þnaka þīna
arm: his arms mīna s·ārms þīna
hand: hīja handus mīna sō handus þīna
fingers: hīs fingras mīnans þǣ fingras þīnans
nail: his naglas mīna sā naglas þīna
chest: his brust mīna sā brust þīna
heart: hit herta mīna þat herta þīna
lungs: hīja lungna mīnan þō lungna þīnan
stomach: his maga mīna sā maga þīna
leg: hīj·anke mīnasō anke þīna
knee: hit knio mīna þat knio þīna
shin: hīja skina mīna sō skina þīna
calf: his waþua mīna sā waþua þīna
ankle: his anklas mīna s·ānklas þīna
feet: hīs fœučis mīnans þǣ fœučis þīnans

Friday, October 25, 2019

The Old Valthungian Alphabet (ca. 950ᴀᴅ)

Most of my posts about Valthungian have something to do with the modern Valthungian language, but I wanted to share a little bit about a stepping-stone we cross on our way from Griutungi (a dialect or close relative of Gothic) to Valthungian.

Old Valthungian, the language spoken by Goth descendants living in parts of Northern Italy between 800 and 1200ad, had a unique writing system which seems to have been largely based on Gothic, but with a few innovations possibly inspired by some of the interesting things that were happening to “Latin” at the time (before it really consciously registered for anyone that they weren’t really speaking Latin anymore). There were very often Latin characters mixed into the Old Valthungian texts as well.

Of course, spelling was very inconsistent, and what I’ve attempted to regularise here is merely academic; a more thorough list of variations and exceptions can be found at the link below. The order of the alphabet as shown is also approximate, based on Gothic and modern Valthungian alphabetic orders; no extant documents or artifacts contain the Old Valthungian alphabet in full.

For more information on Old Valthungian, please visit:

Update: Yeah, so I’ve totally rearranged and reconstructed all of this. The link above is current. The table below is out of order and missing a couple of letters. Also, just kidding about the “exact order of the alphabet is unknown” thing. Now it’s mostly known.

O.V. Rom. Gothic IPA E.g.

a 𐌰 ɑ apls ‘apple’

b 𐌱 b bagyms ‘tree’
g 𐌲 ɡ gaets ‘goat’
d 𐌳 d dagyz ‘day’
ð (𐌳) ð aeðij ‘mother’
e 𐌴 ɛ erða ‘earth’

qv 𐌵 kw qvernu ‘mill’
z 𐌶 ʐ þizae ‘to that’
h 𐌷 h~x herjis ‘army’
þ 𐌸 θ þjuþ ‘people’
i 𐌹 i~ɪ igyil ‘hedgehog’
j 𐌾 j jeir ‘year’

k 𐌺 k⁽ʰ⁾ korts ‘short’
l 𐌻 l~ɫ langz ‘long’
m 𐌼 m maeðms ‘gift’
n 𐌽 n naoþs ‘need’
o 𐍉 ɔ ortigardz ‘garden’
p 𐍀 p⁽ʰ⁾ paeða ‘shirt’
  r 𐍂 r riqvus ‘darkness’
s 𐍃 s sougila ‘sun’
t 𐍄 t⁽ʰ⁾ tungl ‘star’
u 𐌿 u~ʊ ulbvandus ‘camel’
f 𐍆 f~ɸ fimf ‘five’
v 𐍅 w vilðijs ‘wild’
y (𐍅) y~ʏ hyhsopus ‘hyssop’
k 𐍇 korts ‘short’
hv 𐍈 xw hvilftri ‘curve’
aa 𐌰 ɑː haah  ‘curtain’
ae 𐌰𐌹 ɛː aens ‘one’
ao 𐌰𐌿 ɔː kaupoun ‘buy’
bv (𐌱) β gibvan ‘give’
eao 𐌰 œː leaosjan ‘liberate’
ei 𐌴 eː meina ‘moon’
eo (𐌰𐌿) œ andweordjan ‘answer’
eou (𐍉) øː afmeouðij ‘disagreement’
eu (𐌿) y feutlijns ‘fulfillment’
euv (𐌿) yː heuvhjan ‘hoard’
gy (𐌲) ɣ aogyou ‘eye’
ij 𐌴𐌹 iː ijs ‘ice’
ju 𐌹𐌿 ju jup ‘up’
ng 𐌲𐌲 ŋɡ singan ‘sing’
nk 𐌲𐌺 ŋk drinkan ‘drink’
nqv 𐌲𐌵 ŋkw inqvar ‘your’
ou 𐍉 oː ous ‘river-mouth’
uv 𐌿 uː uvhtvou ‘pre-dawn’