Cerulean Cape champions of the sun

@Chusi

The veiled chanteuse had been raised among the temperate forests from the south and her blood ran hot; so the way the salt from the spray of the ocean tangled and strung together her pelt vexed her entirely. She spent many hours cliffside, out of reach of the ocean’s grasp which crashed against the rocks below, grooming the salt from her fur and spitting the bitterness back into the sea. Salt water was also a new concept to her and the starlet disliked how the salt pervaded everything about her, from her plushy pelt to her scent to how it brined her food — but there was something about the sea she did like, and that was swimming. Indie liked being free from the bonds that tied her to the earth’s crust; and within the lapping tides that she could experience true freedom, free from the chains of gravity. She felt like a bird would in the sky, flipping and flitting in a truly unfettered fashion.

But despite this love for swimming and illusions of grandeur, Indie had still not made it more than several feet into the water. She had been trying for several months, but still the woman could only immerse herself in the ever-moving waters so deep before she became distressed at how small it made her feel. Indie hated to think of herself a small, but the far reaching oceans dwarfed her in both size and power. If the Siren’s beloved Sea God ever deigned to strip her of her life, she could do so with ease — as if she were a pesky fly, being shooed away with a flick of a wolf’s tail. But ever-objective Indie knew such trepidation would not do [for was not one to stagnant and flounder under her fears], so every day she practiced striding deeper and deeper into the waters and was determined to do so until the sea felt as would a second skin.

That day, Indie strayed from the isolation of the Isles — Indie knew confinement would never suit her and she hoped dearly that her mentor would understand such an absence. At low tide the starlet crossed the sandbar, dragging her feet through the receding waters and enjoying the ripples as they rang out across the waters. When she reached the mainland, Indie immediately cut a right and headed to one of her choice swimming arenas. Here on the cape, the water eddied against the shallow shore and provided the calm milieu needed to facilitate her focus and practice; for swimming, for singing, for sleuthing, for anything. Without hesitation she assumed her position in the placid tidal waters, wading up to her chest and all too quickly reaching her threshold. Quite happy at this depth, the onyx woman shuffled about, splashed her tail against the top of the water and dipped her head underneath, but never dared fully submerge herself — lest the leviathan from the deep capture her in his aqueous grip and drag her to a watery death! Such a death (via ocean) might suit Akantha or Kalika, but for Indie it would simply not do. 

But it seemed there would be no dying that day, and instead the water massaged her muscles and soothed her body, cleansed her and refreshed her, brilliantly complementing the spring season that continued to bloom.

A little wanderer was what she had been from the start; trapped inside the shadows of her former den and kept there by the creature who dared call herself a "mother". Even as time went on, she had never lost her wandering spirit that needed freedom above all else. Pack to pack - from land in to land out had she travelled to find home. It was when she had wandered away from her former caretakers that she had gotten lost. Luckily, a feathered mute had come to her rescue and so had Szymon. The wolves that had helped her on her journey she would forever remember and she kept them close to her love-bleeding heart. But, perhaps the most important figure in her life was Arturo. He had taken her into his home moons ago, as a father, and had adopted her as his own. It had been a gesture of pure love, and Chusi was sure she loved him back. Not long ago had they found the burnt Lotte, and now the little heir of Teaghlaigh had a mother - with brothers and/or sisters on the way!

But Olive and Dakarai had gone out and perhaps doomed their happy home. It was almost an act of betrayal and Chusi disliked them for this. She honestly didn't believe they were needed if all they would do was bring crazy Blackfeather-Fuckers right to their doorstep. It was because of all this that she found herself wandering away again - even though she called it more of a "scouting mission" in her head. She went into the direction of where she had first met the rude boy  - the one she had a crush on before he disappeared, as everything else did.

Black paws trotted over the beach, searching for anything out of the ordinary to report back home.

Indie’s wading continued and only staying in the water up to her buxom chest was pleasing to the dark women. The feeling of sand between her toes was reassuring, while the weightlessness of her buoyancy frightened her somewhat. When a particularly lively rolled past her and her paws left the sanctity of the seabed, it was impossible for Indie’s heart not to skip a beat and for her to suck and hold her breath through locked jaws. The sand was always just mere inches away, but the starlet took no solace in this – as far as Indie was concerned, the ocean easily transformed her into its play thing and had the potential [and right!] to knock her around as it saw fit. Though her thick frame was sinewy and taut and relatively heavy compared to some of her more petite brethren, Indie found the waves could overpowered her strong legs and so she took great heed when dealing with such a force.

When in the face of the constant and methodical ocean, the raconteur’s skills were rendered somewhat useless.

But Indie was not useless that day, as a curious dark shewolf came perusing down the beach. Indie faced out to the ocean, pondering ponderous thoughts when the onyx form was caught by Indie’s gaze.  Indie turned her head and almost immediately her body followed – because was she really Indie if she did not intercept a total stranger and seek an impromptu conversation? The vaudevillian gave a chuff in greeting as she splashed through the receding tide and stood in water ankle deep, her thick pelt releasing its saturation and allowing the water to rejoin the mother ocean below. “Ahoy!” she said next, hoping to draw the stranger in with a greeting all too appropriate for their beachy milieu.

Chusi remembered the day she first saw the Sea - the sandy beach and the smell of salty air. Strange how she failed to notice these little things now that she had spent a great portion of her life right beside it. Never before had she gotten so used to something; her life had been a mess before the mute ink-blob whom she had called "Darky" had found her. She wondered what had become of the woman - of Szymon and Doe and their puppies Chusi had been allowed to visit a while back. Even about Zephyr's life did she wonder; had he stolen any more girls from their mother just to leave them stranded at the beach? Had they found someone like Arturo?

The story of the Butterfly of the Coast was both a sad and a happy one; one of losing and finding something one held closest to the heart. From family to family, Chusi had been passed down like an unwanted burden no one knew how to deal with. That was all until she was asked to join a Family - a strange coy-wolf the only one who dared to claim the warrior as his own. She would never dirty the Fearghal name.

The present soon caught up with her when a dripping she-wolf came from the Sea's embrace - straight toward the girl from a bleeding forest like no other. "Ahoy" was not a greeting she recognised, but she nodded nonetheless. What did she want? Why was she swimming while the winter had only just passed? The little Fearghal found the thought of the cold water in her pelt yet again concerning and uncomfortable. Hullo. She greeted somewhat chipper, nodding out of respect for an older soul.

The saltstrung oncomer was receptive to Indie’s greeting and even added a respectable dip of the head too boot. Indie was by no means a wolf of high decorum [in fact, she came from a family that was anything but] and, as far as the Nereides went, the vaudevillian was still low man on the totem pole — so the simple action of the young woman’s slight dip of the head was enough to stoke Indie’s fire and sense of self-importance. “My, my, my” she tittered, stepping closed to the girl who's pelt was so similar to her own; albeit, with a small smudge of white upon her chest.  “Aren’t you a pretty one?” and she was — all legs and held herself confidently, as if she was queen of the coastline. Indie liked that.

“What’s your name?”

[table width=80%][tr][td]Eyes held open wide, not very trusting when it came to strangers crazy enough to swim with this kind of weather, she didn't move an inch farther or closer to the other. Why she had even called out to the butterfly of the coast was something Chusi pondered over, too, which bothered her even more. She was not supposed to think things trough so far, but perhaps some Arturo had rubbed off on her. The white-throated girl's ears lowered slightly - bashfully - at the woman's remark. Ah shucks - ya sure ain't bad yarself. She chipped quickly.

Fearghal - Chusi Fearghal. She introduced herself proudly, simply too proud of her father's name to let it not be a part of every introduction. 'n ya? She asked then.[/tr][/td][/table]

The girl did not shy in the face of Indie’s flummery, and Indie was pleased, so a wry grin settled itself upon her lips. Chusi Fearghal, she echoed silently. The name held distinction and was said with such pleasure that curiosity immediately struck the ravenhaired maverick. “It’s wonderful t’ meet ya, Chusi” tasting the girl’s curious drawl on her tongue. Indie flicked her ears forward to denote the playfulness intended by it — the girl was bright and self-assured, so Indie felt safe in assuming that innocuous jokes could be made… but just incase, Indie chuckled and continued on.

“I’m Indie, with the sirens of the Blackwater Islands. Indie said in a similar, cocksure manner. The chanteuse then took a moment to look over the smudged girl and regard her more closely; perhaps she had been present at the convention between the Nereides and the wolves of Drageda? Indie’s full attention had been on the opposite party’s dark commander [entirely bewitched by her taciturn nature] but Indie ascertained with some confidence that, no, Chusi had not been there. “They would like you,” she intoned and raised a suggestive eyebrow. Indie had already gleaned from Chusi’s scent that her allegiances lay elsewhere, and Indie had only known the girl for a moment, but Indie knew she would do well with the Nereides.

[table width=80%][tr][td]The bold warrior grinned right back, albeit it a lot more innocent than she had hoped. She often liked to see herself as a fearless, important picture of danger and beauty, but in reality she was simply a loyal, loving girl with a way too big of a heart. Same goes f'r ya. It was not often that Chusi met a nice stranger, even though every stranger she had met to that day had been kind and helpful. Perhaps she was just lucky - or perhaps the scent of the sea turned everyone into a better version of themselves.

Sirens? She questioned, head tipping to the side. The term had not been spoken around her if she remembered correctly and she wondered just exactly what a siren was. Given that the woman before her was so nice, surely they wouldn't be evil or something. Or was that her naivety speaking? Ya mean, near tha sea? - I grew u' with Her. She told, revealing that she saw the sea as more of a goddess.[/tr][/td][/table] 

“Aye,” Indie confirmed when the young Chusi questioned the holy moniker — sirens. It was nearly the same reaction that Indie had experienced so many months on a beach so similar to the one she stood upon then, and the thought of it was enough to cause a laugh to spring from her lips. How enamored she had been — still was — but look how far she had come.

”Her,” Indie echoed. The pronoun, too, was remnant of the sisters’ own tongue. The ocean was alive; and not just that, but a woman! It was not yet a belief that Indie subscribed to, but Indie could be cajoled into just about anything if there was enough sweetness in the deal. Light of heart, Indie bounced her head, turned her eye and purled “You seem to me like a seafaring wolf.” The girl, scarcely a year in age, seemed comfortable here [unlike so many she had met]. Having been caught in the middle of self imposed swimming lesson, Indie did not bother to hide her genuine interest in this aspect of Chusi.

Indie edge a step closer to the dark hoyden. ”You live nearby?” she assumed sincerely, keeping her voice light and pink with the twinge of drawl that she had spontaneously adopted for this sole conversation. ”Our clan inhabits the blackwater isles, to the north. You know of us, yes?” Perhaps this girl was from Drageda — she smelled of a pack and deeply of salt  — it all tickled Indie’s lungs as she respired. 

 

[table width=80%][tr][td]She was not given a proper answer on hat a siren did or was, but soon found out that she did not wish to know anymore. It was a wonderfully sounding word that couldn't mean anything bad; the  woman before her was one, and she seemed very nice so far. This really had been a good day to go out and scout the coast - unknowingly for the last time. She was surprised to hear her terms echo as if the other shared the same thought; Szymon said She had chosen her for something, yet he had never truly revealed as to what he had meant by that. Surely the sea had to be alive - constantly moving and shifting like emotions.

I'm a bi' o' everythung. She chuckled, tracing back her steps. So many had promised to care for her, yet only one had truly done so; the man she now called "father". Imm'a orphan - found mah way to tha coast 'n have been passed down fro' wulf to wulf. She told, not truly lying. She didn't know she was an orphan, yet she hadn't seen her mother in... at least 9 moons or so. And her true father? He hadn't even been around for her birth.

Chusi did not mind her enthusiasm and was not uncomfortable with talking about herself; Chusi had nothing to hide but Teaghlaigh's secrets, even though they barely had any. I do. She answered. 'n I dun't think I do? It sounded more like a question; so many packs had been at the coast and it was hard to keep track.[/tr][/td][/table]

I suck, i’m sorry for making you wait so often <3

”Orphan?” Indie responded with a rhetorical question, her ears perking and mien shifting into tone of empathy and interest. She, too, had been an orphan — if you could call her such a thing. The woman had been thieved from her parents [their memory and image lost to the ages] and brought into a family that was not her own; but the group had, with time, become her family. The group had collectively become her parents, alongside with one lover-mentor-dad weird type thing, but that was the way of things sometimes. In fact, such an upbringing had taught her strategy and flexibility and she was better for it. 

Some of the most well-adjusted wolves came from the most broken of families. Indie nodded in empathy, shifting the conversation back from the Nereides apparent obscurity to the more relevant matter at hand. ”Me too.” She uttered softly, letting her gaze fall to sands — but then jumped back to meet Chusi’s own. ”It is no matter,”  the mummer stated with confidence. ”Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb.”

Chusi giggled at the other's empathetic tone, but not mockingly so. I'm no' anymore - I'm with 'Turo 'n he's mah real dad now. She explained, keeping things vague. She didn't like the past, especially not the time before she had found Arturo. What had made the man so protective of her in the first place was a mystery, but Chusi was forever grateful for everything he had done. Even though his rules and desires were hard to follow, she saw him as an amazing man trying to make a difference. She loved him, really, more than she would ever had loved her real parents.

Couldn't agree with ya m're! She chipped happily.

The girl seemed so earnest and honest in her love for her adopted family! Perhaps Indie too felt this way when she was a young girl, around Chusi’s age? Yes, she remembered quite vividly how she had adored the Merry-Andrew when she was young — her own shiny brand of stockholm syndrome. Indie had quite liked being grown and groomed to be their ultimate weapon, to be loved and moulded by Donovan’s deft hands. But that was before the accident that had ruined everything. Now, if she never saw another Merry-Andrew in her life, it would still be too soon.

Not to say that would be Chusi’s experience or anything… but Indie never said never!

Indie smiled her best smile at the chipper girl. “What has your father taught you?”  Indie questioned, wishing to keep their conversation going. The girl was spunky, probably a warrior or a novice hunter, but the vaudevillian asked anyways. “Surely a woman like you must be working towards a trade, no?”

With a proud flick of her fluffy, charcoal tail did she reply. ''lready have mah merc'nary trade. She answered. Even though her form was more feminine than brute, Arturo had shaped her in such a way she could very well be lethal. Of course, never had she seriously needed to use her skills in such a way, but she knew for certain the day kept creeping closer. She found killing a rather gruesome thought, but, then again, she saw death as peaceful rather than nothingness. She was sure the answer to her burning questions about killing would come to her as soon as she was about to end a life herself.

'Turo taught meh all kinds of stuffles! I'm 'is Ríchíosa

Editing on a conclusion

After some more small talk, Chusi found it time to leave and tell of the stranger to her father. She wasn't a threat though, and nothing else seemed amiss, so she had little to report back to him. She waved and called a goodbye to her new yet soon forgotten friend before turning and making her way back home.