Firestone Hot Springs but now the nightmares come again

the jezebel had taken advantage of a lull in the snowfall; she trotted across the border and secreted herself into the featureless landscape at a determined pace.
the pain in her head had not returned; she was relieved by this, but vowed to take easier ways for herself. no more children. no more endless hunts, no more petty squabbles or posturing.
she was growing old.
but not so old as to fail in beauty, erzulie thought with a rare spate of vanity as she lowered herself into a steaming pool. the expanse shimmered with a foul steam, but it was an easy trade for the soothing touch of the water, and soon she grew sleepy, languid.

The ocean faded in her rear view mirror as Harps finally moved inland, for no reason aside from a faint inkling. Nearly as soon as she altered her course, she came across the scents of many wolves near the foot of a plateau. Although intrigued, the yearling found herself skirting the area, her heart beating swiftly in her chest. Her small family had come across many packs in their roaming, yet Harps had not yet run across one since dispersing. She yearned for company, yet the thought of approaching a claimed territory all on her own made her deeply apprehensive.

But one she-wolf on her own, Harps knew she could handle. When her hasty footsteps carried her into a fragrant hot springs and she discovered someone lounging there, she halted. She couldn’t see much more than the stranger’s lovely masked face; her body was submerged in the steaming pool, obscured. Harps swallowed and licked her chops, noting the half-lidded eyes and languid pose. She hated to disturb her, yet she felt creepier by the second as she just stood there staring.

She cleared her throat and tried, ”Ah… hello?”

le gasp

two-toned eyes fluttered open, fixing themselves as a cold look momentarily crossed erzulie's face. she had only just grown comfortable, and now! and now!
so impatient! so cruel!
"ah, forgive me," she murmured, features filling with a genuine apology. erzulie leant back, created space for the other to enter the pool if she so wished, this stranger with eyes the hue of burnished coin. the harlot shifted, body slipping into familiar inviting curves just beneath the surface of the water, a courtesan prepared to make amends.
"join me?"

Hi! :D

The stranger’s eyes opened slowly, back lit with understandable displeasure as Harps disrupted her respite. The yearling noticed this, though she was momentarily ensnared by the colors of the woman’s irises: the right was the hue of spring leaves and the left made her think of a sunflower with its bright burst of yellow around a darker center. Before she could catch herself for staring, the stranger moved, breaking eye contact, and Harps blinked her own lackluster eyes as she snorted lightly to herself.

Her brow rose in surprise at the unexpected invitation that followed. Harps padded closer, pausing at the edge of the pool, enjoying the wave of humid heat that pressed against her face and chest even as its odor burned her nostrils. Slowly, she slung her belly to the ground, her forepaws dangling into the pool, though she didn’t slip into the waters.

Instead, she gazed at the she-wolf with the mesmerizing eyes, hoping for another glimpse, and said, ”I’m Harpsichord, although everyone calls me Harps.” By “everyone,” she referred to her parents and Lele, though Harps happily carried this nickname forward into her new life. ”I’ve only ever come across one other hot spring, back when I was a little kid. I always wondered why they smelled like farts.” Even as the words slipped off her tongue, Harps realized she’d spoken crassly and felt her face warm, her copper eyes shooting pensively to her new acquaintance’s face.

lips curved in the comfortable glow of amusement beneath this harpsichord's unsurety. how good was the measure of youth! how similar she had been, in innocence, mincing steps around those she found beautiful. the harlot suspected that this was an additional reason for the girl's nature toward her.
erzulie was aware of her own appearance, cultivated for her trade. mouth pursed now. the jezebel swept the water around her with wondering forepaws, drifting somewhat closer to her companion.
"i be erzulie,"  she offered, admiring the wealth of gold in the other's gaze. something empowering about the ability to play such a game. 
to give sensuality a wordless promise.
"i find dem relaxing," she went on, pressing back into the warmth. "an' i rarely get to relax, so i will take de stench. a small price to pay for comfort, harps."

She didn’t seem bothered by the yearling’s immature remark. In fact, she looked a little amused by the faux pas. Still Harps’s cheeks flushed beneath her fur, helped along by the heat wafting up from the sulfurous pool. Her eyes dropped, peering at the woman’s distorted figure beneath the water, though they flicked upward again when she introduced herself.

A giggle caught in her throat, fortunately suppressed, at Erzulie’s strange grammar. When she spoke again, the accented lilt made itself obvious where it had not been before. Harps marveled at the strange sound of it, only belatedly taking a moment to process the woman’s actual meaning. A smile curved her lips as she scooted another inch forward, her forelegs now submerged up to her ankles, toes wiggling underwater.

”I love the way you talk,” Harps said, stomach clenching again when she realized that was perhaps an odd thing to say. ”Is that weird?” the yearling added dumbly, now cringing at herself. In an effort to change the subject, she queried, ”Anyway, how come you never get to relax…?”

the maiden was inching closer. erzulie pretended not to notice, but she swept back in the pool to silently reiterate her offer of joining. harps spoke; the harlot laughed aloud, but it was a good-natured sound. "not at all," she murmured. "it is quite de compliment, actually."
following the inquiry after her comment, erzulie hmmed, sitting back against the round wall of the pool. a rule to be broken here; her own, of not giving information to strangers, no matter how harmless and innocent they appeared.
"i spend a lot of time worrying about dose i love," the harlot opted for instead, a simple enough statement. mintglow eyes roved over harps' pretty pointed face. "an' i am not so young anymore. age will take away your energy."  a glow of a smile.

Once more, Erzulie seemed more entertained than bothered by her social ineptitude. Harps flushed a little, wishing she wasn’t so awkward, even if her current company didn’t hold it against her. But she had been socialized by just three wolves, each of them so different: her father, (laid-back to a fault), Spur (angry to a fault) and Lele (upbeat to a fault). So her social graces were a bit hit or miss.

The bathing she-wolf confessed to her worries, plus her advanced age. Harps couldn’t relate to the latter, though she could definitely sympathize with the former. She adored her family, even Spur, who was very difficult to love. And she worried about them, especially Lele, and wondered how they were faring without her. Surely they were fine, though her mind and heart often strayed to them. She understood Erzulie on that point.

”How old are you?” This time, she didn’t even realize that it wasn’t a particularly socially acceptable thing to ask. ”You don’t look old.” Granted, she couldn’t see much more than Erzulie’s face but between her enchanting eyes and exotic accent, she struck Harps as ageless, somehow.

such an intriguing young creature this was. erzulie was fascinated beneath the burble of wistful envy; to be so beautiful, but to know it not until your looks began to fade. had she always been so vain? the harlot busied herself with watching how harps regarded her, warmed by the soft glances.
"old enough to be a mot'er," she murmured in response, lips curling into a wide, brazen smile once more. "but my children have mostly left me, now." pensive; a note she had not meant to let the girl hear.
she covered it with a low sound, an arch of spiced brow. "an' you?"

She didn’t offer a number, though she referred to herself as a mother. Harps didn’t actually understand that particular accented word until she went on to mention children. Her head tipped ponderously. She was old enough to have raised children to adulthood, which meant she could be the same age as Tambourine, who’d sired children over two different seasons. Perhaps she was even older, matriarch of many litters, maybe even a grandmother.

Harps couldn’t help but think of her own mother, who had spurned that title. She had always insisted on being called by her name: Spur. She had never wanted to be a mom, a point which she had made clear with nearly every action and word throughout Harps’s childhood. The young she-wolf had left in large part because she couldn’t bear to be around Spur anymore (and she still didn’t understand how her dad and Lele put up with her). The yearling hoped Erzulie’s grown children hadn’t left for similar reasons.

The only way to find out was to ask. ”Why did they leave?” In practically the same breath, she said, ”I just turned one. I left my parents and older sister not that long ago. I loved them but they argued a lot. Spur—my… mother—was particularly toxic,” Harps confessed haltingly, the title unfamiliar in her mouth. ”She never wanted kids. She took it out on me and Lele, even though Lele wasn’t hers.” She bit her lip, feeling a tightness in her chest as she recollected, wondering too if she was oversharing.

ah. so there was some gristle to the pretty flesh. erzulie was silent as the girl began and ended her outpouring. she side-stepped the question put to her for the present. it was not something that begged to be hidden, but now — now the jezebel wished to focus upon harpsichord and her melancholy.
"some women were not meant to be mot'ers," came the kelpwitch's slow remark, sympathy filling her eyes. "entire tomes could be filled wid stories of children who suffered dat particular fate. i am sorry, girl," erzulie clucked softly. she knew the bitter taste of what harps had described, and it was not something anyone should suffer.
"but you are heah now. what are you going to do differently?" she inquired, eyelids half-mast against the rising steam of the springwater.

”Some women were not meant to be mot’ers.” Harps couldn’t agree more. She sometimes caught herself wondering why her father and Spur had ever come together that way. They didn’t even seem to like each other! Spur had once mentioned “cursed hormones” and Lele had explained the birds and the bees to Harps at some point. For obvious reasons, she didn’t like to dwell on it much. Maybe she would understand one day, when she experienced her first season.

Erzulie’s voice drew her back to attention and Harps pursed her lips, now stirring her toes mindlessly in the warm water. ”I think I want to find a new family,” she said very slowly and thoughtfully, copper eyes unfocused. ”I love them, especially Lele, but she wouldn’t leave. I don’t want to replace them, just…” The yearling struggled to articulate what exactly she meant. She wasn’t even sure she fully understood the desires of her own heart yet.

Something she did know for sure: she appreciated making this connection, no matter how spontaneously. ”I want to meet more wolves, like you,” Harps admitted. ”Not exactly like you.” She doubted there was anyone quite like Erzulie. ”But you know what I mean, right?”

"i do. an' dat is a good first step, curating new experiences dat differ from your own." she could not fault harps for it, though over the years, erzulie had become more than a bit of a misanthrope. "a word of advice, though you have not asked for it," and here she smiled again, a beam.
"do not rush into marriage wid dey first boy you meet. dat happens so often to promising girls like you, harps," the harlot mused with a rush of melancholy. "go out an' explore all you can in de world first. it is a great gift," the woman finished, lapsing into silence and laying her crown back upon the water.

Her features brightened with interest when Erzulie offered a word of advice. She was hungry for such things, particularly from someone who seemed as wise as her. She withdrew her paws from the water and gathered them beneath her chest, crouching like a thirsty lioness over the water's edge, the picture of an eager listener.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, though a smile slowly crawled over her face as Erzulie's words sank into her young mind. "Lele told me to keep an eye out for 'fuckboys,'" Harps blurted without thinking, sucking in a sharp breath at her own rotten language and then coughing out a giggle despite herself. "Sorry, it just reminded me of that," Harps hastily apologized.

The yearling took a moment to gather her thoughts and form a proper reply. When she spoke, the amusement had drained from her voice; her tone was thoughtful. "Growing up with dad and Spur, it made me never want to bother with a mate." She shuddered subtly. "I want a family but not necessarily that kind of family," Harps said, thinking of marriage and children as she gazed unseeingly across the water.

Her muzzle then turned sharply back toward Erzulie. "Did that happen to you? Rushing into marriage?" she wondered astutely, her voice dropping low as if they were conspiring.

a half-lidded grin. "fuckboys? dat sounds about right," erzulie rejoined, deeply amused by harps' continued openness. head lifted; she was not yet ready to exit the pool, but dipped her head beneath briefly.
re-emerging, the harlot blinked, refreshed by the rejuvenation of her sore muscles. "i understand," the spicewitch murmured. "but it does not all have to be de same. for instance, you could have a wife instead."
the smile that followed was lit with a more somber glint; the two-toned eyes trained themselves fully upon the girl and her wondering, hungry gaze.
"no, mon cœur," the jezebel whispered, moving forward to lean against the same low stone wall as harps perched upon.
"dere was no one man for which i fell, but an endless string of dem. a woman loved me, took me beneat' her wing, motherless child i was. an' she made of me somet'ing you may have not heard: a harlot."
small, sharp teeth beneath the wistful curve of her rounded cheek. "i was younger den you be now."

When Erzulie pulled herself to the edge of her bath, Harps craned her neck to watch her, prepared to jump to her feet to get out of the way. But then the older she-wolf hunkered down there, speaking of wives and endless strings of men. As a matter of fact, Harps didn't know what "harlot" meant, though Erzulie didn't immediately supply an explanation.

"I don't think I'd want a wife any more than a husband," the yearling pondered aloud, seeing no particular difference between them, even though she knew how children were made. "I want friendship, I guess. I've never had a friend before." She hadn't even realized it until this very moment. But it was true. Lele was her friend, even her best friend, but she was also her older sister, so it wasn't the same thing.

"Anyway, what's a harlot?" Harps queried innocently, the question interrupted by an abrupt yawn.

"you have a lot of time to choose," erzulie observed, letting herself be dazzled a moment by the graceful youth of accompanying maid. "take all of it, i say." wearied to be mother for the time being, the harlot truly did lift herself from the pool, dripping steaming rivulets of warm water that she began to groom lightly from her pelt.
"a harlot be someone dat can be paid to pleasure anot'er. usually men. dey told me what dey wanted; i told dem what dey must pay to get it." mischevious now. "lucrative, in its own way. i traveled many places doing dat."

*stealthy fixes previous post*

This time, Erzulie did make to exit the pool, her soaking pelt gleaming and steaming. Harps stood up a little to make room, biting back a second yawn. Erzulie was not boring—far from it—but the yearling had been traveling nonstop for several weeks, so she shouldn't be surprised by the weariness that overcame her suddenly.

"Pleasure? H—" Harps began to ask when suddenly she saw Lele's laughing face in her mind's eye and recalled a certain dirty conversation (probably related to the one about "fuckboys"). "Oh," she said, copper eyes widening for a moment before she chuckled in the self-conscious manner of the innocently naive.

Erzulie must be preparing to depart, now that she was finished with her soak. Harps wondered if she was affiliated with the wolves she'd sensed at the plateau. It seemed likely. Maybe if she ever decided to go back there and investigate further, she would find Erzulie waiting there.

"I need to find somewhere to bed down tonight, so I'll let you get back to wherever you're headed," Harps said a little awkwardly, though she smiled softly and wagged her tail. "It was really nice meeting you, Erzulie. And sorry for interrupting your relaxation."

what a fun thread!

erzulie did not understand the innocent. how could you be young and not explore your body with another? and while she granted she had been altogether too young for the trade, its rewards remained with her today, in some small way.
cunning; an idle whim.
lifting wet lashes that ringed two-toned eyes, and granting harps the slow spread of a honeyed smile, the woman tilted her muzzle.
"it was no trouble at all to while away de day wid you, harpsichord," tongue playing over the name. "perhaps i will meet you again."

Agree!

Although it was probably a platitude, Harps liked to think Erzulie was telling the truth when she insisted it hadn't been a bother. Either way, it made the yearling feel a little less intrusive. She had most certainly enjoyed the conversation. It set a pretty high bar for any future encounters, that was for sure.

"I'd like that," Harps said honestly and earnestly, dipping her snout. "Take care, Erzulie." Her eyes lingered on the older woman for a moment, as if memorizing her features. How could she ever forget them though? Then she turned away and left the hot springs, searching for somewhere more suitable to catch a few winks.