backdated to march 27th, for the foreseeable future this is where chani & pups will reside! my imagining of turtle island is based off skomer island: treeless, flat, & very small!
clementine and searose wound with orange-scent from dragging blooms. each inch of the island had felt the step of seawolf's paw. this island was comprised of several cliffs, layered in both stone and the commonality of sand held by oceanic grass.
several times chani watched black-and-white birds fly confidently to a collection of high rocks tumbled along a cape of golden sand. each point of the island could be seen from the ridge beside a reed-choked collection of rainwater, deep now.
no neck of earth connected the land to the main, and when chani tried to stare off, to search for the hazy shape of saltcliffs, the sea dipped and roiled, obscuring her view in insistence that she was utterly and completely alone.
the swim had left the young woman depleted. rebuilding her stores was slow going, and she found herself heavily reliant on eggs and shellfish. but these skills of gathering had been nurtured into chani; it was the loneliness that came to unwind her, the absolute lack of anything larger than herself.
evenings were dark, almost black. springtime stormclouds barred sunlight often these days, and deluges of water refilled what she desperately drank.
those first pains caught chani off-guard, and she began to hunt birds in earnest denial. but by sundown she was contorted with them, thoroughly alone and beginning to sob with fear. in a place which later would come to be called petalvale, surrounded by the blooming life of saltflowers, she found the rhythm of ancient mother's life.
she should be at home, with chacal and mireille and shadess and sobeille near her; she should not be beneath a blackfalling night with only tiny bits of starglow to mark her children's entry into the world.
@Noé arrived first, a nightstone boy who separated from his mother's body on the crescendo of her wailing, harsh enough to wake even the birds in their sleep. shaking hands gathered him; she refused to think of who his father might be.
no sooner had chani attempted to latch the boy before her anguish began again, and she cried then for her mother, struggling against agony and terror. a woman born among many, she was not able to pass that birthright on. not even to @Fabienne.
another charcoal-coated child, accented in red.
"ou fè pati sapphique, fi!" chani hissed once she had cleaned the mouth of the second child.
they both did, but her daughter shared a legacy with the worldbuilders of her own design.
it was too exposed here. she nursed her children and slept all the same.
in the morning son and daughter would be moved to a tiny cave in sea rose winding, but for now, vulnerable to swooping gull or watching orca, chani slept among the blossoms half-curled around the tiny lives born now to this island.
several times chani watched black-and-white birds fly confidently to a collection of high rocks tumbled along a cape of golden sand. each point of the island could be seen from the ridge beside a reed-choked collection of rainwater, deep now.
no neck of earth connected the land to the main, and when chani tried to stare off, to search for the hazy shape of saltcliffs, the sea dipped and roiled, obscuring her view in insistence that she was utterly and completely alone.
the swim had left the young woman depleted. rebuilding her stores was slow going, and she found herself heavily reliant on eggs and shellfish. but these skills of gathering had been nurtured into chani; it was the loneliness that came to unwind her, the absolute lack of anything larger than herself.
evenings were dark, almost black. springtime stormclouds barred sunlight often these days, and deluges of water refilled what she desperately drank.
those first pains caught chani off-guard, and she began to hunt birds in earnest denial. but by sundown she was contorted with them, thoroughly alone and beginning to sob with fear. in a place which later would come to be called petalvale, surrounded by the blooming life of saltflowers, she found the rhythm of ancient mother's life.
she should be at home, with chacal and mireille and shadess and sobeille near her; she should not be beneath a blackfalling night with only tiny bits of starglow to mark her children's entry into the world.
@Noé arrived first, a nightstone boy who separated from his mother's body on the crescendo of her wailing, harsh enough to wake even the birds in their sleep. shaking hands gathered him; she refused to think of who his father might be.
no sooner had chani attempted to latch the boy before her anguish began again, and she cried then for her mother, struggling against agony and terror. a woman born among many, she was not able to pass that birthright on. not even to @Fabienne.
another charcoal-coated child, accented in red.
"ou fè pati sapphique, fi!" chani hissed once she had cleaned the mouth of the second child.
they both did, but her daughter shared a legacy with the worldbuilders of her own design.
it was too exposed here. she nursed her children and slept all the same.
in the morning son and daughter would be moved to a tiny cave in sea rose winding, but for now, vulnerable to swooping gull or watching orca, chani slept among the blossoms half-curled around the tiny lives born now to this island.
Upon her arrival into the world a cry like war left her maw. Loud and echoing. She was letting everyone know she was alive and she was here and she would take no prisoners.
There was blood of queens and pirates in her lifestream and she carried the wildness of her father's blood. Reckless and feral. And Those queens, and daughters and sisters who had been beaten down and told to be quiet. She would be their voice. And she started early.
She suckled immediately drawing into her maw the sustenance of life itself. And her heart beat strong.
There was blood of queens and pirates in her lifestream and she carried the wildness of her father's blood. Reckless and feral. And Those queens, and daughters and sisters who had been beaten down and told to be quiet. She would be their voice. And she started early.
She suckled immediately drawing into her maw the sustenance of life itself. And her heart beat strong.
Chani's firstborn could not have been more different than her cold-blooded captor. He emerged quiet and still in the wake of his mother's labours, nursed to life by the swipe of a tongue and pressed warmly against her belly.
Tiny, gummed jaws parted to let loose a gull's peep, silenced by the swelled cries of a sister birthed next as soon she came to wriggle besides him. This seemed to stir the boy into action. Noé eventually found a teat of his own and settled to feast, ears wiggling contently, blissfully unaware of life beyond their island.
For this was all he needed to be happy.
Tiny, gummed jaws parted to let loose a gull's peep, silenced by the swelled cries of a sister birthed next as soon she came to wriggle besides him. This seemed to stir the boy into action. Noé eventually found a teat of his own and settled to feast, ears wiggling contently, blissfully unaware of life beyond their island.
For this was all he needed to be happy.
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