Dragoncrest Cliffs in the future

this can be a one post or a read only!

erzulie, @Njord, and @Rosalyn carried haunt to the cliffs where the others had been buried. it overlooked the sea with a wide and hungry view. moss had grown over the mounds of earth yet there, but the smell of loam filled the air.
beside haunt, the obsidian lay an otterskin.
the minutes became nothing.
when soil formed another soft heap over the girl's forever-sleeping features, erzulie panted, her coat streaked with mud and sorrow. but she was not ready to leave.
the obsidian called for the ear of @Sadbh and zephyr and hyacinth, for @Hermes, @Sobo, and mireille. the rest of her children hovered close, eldest watching over youngest.
"haunt was one of us an' she should not be forgotten. i wish that she had been given more time to be wid us. not only in sapphique, but in de worl'." the loss of one so young was grievous. the loss of a child to a mother's heart moreso in a particular way.
"haunt was kind an' she was t'oughtful, always. i do not intend to forget her inspiration."
erzulie had no more words. she looked at each of sapphique in turn, softly encouraging them to speak if they were so moved. and then the obsidian looked at her wife for a long and bracing moment.
setting her eyes upon the grave, erzulie did not intend to look up again unless someone spoke.

Rosalyn did not speak. She did not have many words to give, and at Erzulie's lament, there was a single thought that pervaded. Was she one of us?

It was a cruel thought, but the pirate could hardly prevent what she was. Haunt had been an inconsistent presence on their shores and left only to return, desperate and broken, to perish in their midst. It was perhaps telling that such a rift of feeling could exist between even the pair of them. She would not speak against Erzulie's words, but could not follow them either.

Yet when her wife met her gaze she held it, and there was a warmth of understanding. Regardless of her own lack, she was there for Erzulie, and her clear pain did resound within the russet woman's chest. She would assist with the burial, and join her voice if they sang her off. It was clear that Sapphique had lost one of her own. It required no input from her.

Njord gathered with the rest of Sapphique at the cliffside graveyard. They were too young a pack to lose so many members – but here they were. The seafarer placed himself close to the children and his gaze drifted between each pack mate, longstanding or green, until his line of sign fell upon the many cairns. There was a new face among them – Sadbh – and Njord was sorry that this was their first group meeting.

Erzulie said her piece while Rosalyn remained silent besides her wife. Shouldn’t their captain say something? Njord pondered to himself. After a lull in the eulogy, Njord spoke up.

“Aye, Haunt ‘ad a quick mind an’ quick fangs. An excellent tracker, she was. She came to us in a winter storm an’ ‘elped provide fer tha pack. She ‘ad a bright future ahead of ‘er… but I think tha heavens needed her more than tha earth. We will miss you Haunt.” A long sigh whistled out his nose. “I will miss ya.”

lil cameo for Sadbh!

A call. They raised their head from whatever it was they were poking at, leaving the thing behind and making their way to the place the call originated from.

They didn’t know what they would be walking into. A burial, the fresh dirt said that. Sadbh closed their eyes, dipping their chin down to their chest in response to the outpouring of grief from the wolves around them.

Another ghost to add to their list to watch for. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long to unearth their skillset once again.

she could barely be persuaded to go.
mireille sniffed back her tears, agonized and sulking by turns.
one mother spoke. the other did not. da njord spoke as well.
mireille stared at the mound of earth until her eyes blurred.

His first taste of death would shape Sobo going forward.

He hadn’t known Haunt well. Their few interactions could hardly be called that. He grappled with his shyness in her presence, but he had been opening up to the notion of speaking with her. She was interesting, a wolf with a missing leg and ear. What stories she might have told of her life’s pain! Then she was gone. Then she returned, but then she was gone again, and this time it was permanent.

Sobo stood at Mireille’s side, silent while she wept. By now, he knew that boys did not weep. No one had taught him that, but Loko’s teasing whenever he caught his brother sobbing had done the trick. Both boys were silent, but while Loko merely seemed bored to be here, Sobo was thoughtful. Up until now, he believed that it was possible to fix anything with the right herbs and the right incantations and help from the loa.

Now he learned that death was not fair and not as readily stopped as he once thought. He learned that it took regardless of those it would affect. His mothers and his da were shaken; he could tell, even if they tried to pretend they weren’t. Sobo found in this the motivation to work harder, to learn more, more even than his manman knew, so that one day, maybe he would be able to save another Haunt from this fate.