Wheeling Gull Isle Teach your children well. . .

for @Etienne but all welcome

Of course, they'd take time away, make sure the bear was fully gone. Lilitu understood. She was well unmoored at this point, and so the island felt as much of a staging area as anything else, a jumping off point to somewhere else.

Except, the worst had happened.

She sat near the tide pools, watching the eddies in the winter winds, and sighed. She sighed a lot, these days.

Still adjusting to her half-vision, and bearing guilt like a yoke upon her shoulders, she kept away from the Sapphique wolves. The island wolves were more understanding, but even then. . .

She wanted to go home, too, but she couldn't help but she owed more to Sapphique.

After, you know, she'd led this monster to their doorstep.

Again, she sighed, resting her chin on her forepaws. Watching the water ripple. Feeling her heart freeze over.

Etienne moved through the island. He had no answers. He still wasn't sure who was alive and who was dead. His heart was clenched and his breathing was shallow because he couldn't calm himself down. Hadn't been able too since hey arrived.

There was so much all over the place, and Eti he didn't know what to do. Part of him hated himself for leaving his family behind, even if it was to stay with Suzu, because she asked. Because she was frantic. Shouldn't have have been willing to lay his life down for his family too. Theo was much braver than him. Maybe Theo was the better son, brother, wolf.

Eti came upon the wolf Lilitu and a practiced eye went across her wounds. She seemed alright. They didn't seem much worse than they had and there was no infection.

He settled to his haunches near her with a soft chuff and sat still. If she wished to speak he would, but he also didn't want to stir the silence if that was what she craved.

She cast her gaze aside to find Etienne in her periphery, giving her the once-over as he approached. She forced a smile and rose to sit upright, stifling a yawn—but only just.

Hi, Etienne, Lilitu greeted, tail tip flicking briefly in greeting. How're you doing? Everything okay with you and Suzu?

He'd mentioned a "Theo," and she assumed—well, knew, probably—that he was now here, alive and well. But obviously an event like that was going to rattle any youngster, and he had the tense, sharp lines of someone who couldn't relax.

How could they, after what happened?

'ello Miss. Lilitu. You kin call me Eti. Everyone does. Her next words and his heart froze and his breathing felt harsh.

I..No I'm not, but I will be. We all will be someday. Suzu is still scared and don't be likin' be to go far from 'er.

Eti hadn't seen any of his family yet, and he had yet to get the news of his granmes' He was afraid for waht he'd here, and he had been staying to himself. Far away from all those that he loved, only because he was so afraid of what he might find out.

She nodded. Thanks, Eti, Lilitu said warmly, accepting the nickname. She'd been at least partially accepted into the fold for that.

The boy was scared. She was, too.

Me neither, she admitted, referring to Suzu's reticence to leave. It's scary. But it'll be okay.

Her breath was coming fast, too, and she took long, slow inhales, trying to calm herself. Breathe with me, she told Etienne, and tell me about your family. What are they like?

It was the only way they could cope.

Etienne smiled and then moved closer to her, offering his medium body for her to cling too if she should need it. Sometimes he knew in healing. YOu needed someone or something to anchor you.

He nodded. Someday. Then he let his voice taper off but her next question. It pinched a soft pain in his heart and chest and he had to take a deep breath.

Well dere be Suzu, 'er be an imp! Jes always runnin' off and gettin' into stuff. Granme's de tell me. Now eti you can't be protectin 'er from 'erself, but i wis' i could. Den you got me T'eo. 'e's strong and fast and big, bigger dan me. 'e wants to be a fig'ter. Manman and granme's dey all sweet and kind. Cept granme Roz, 'er be rippin' of yer face you t'reaten 'er family. manman sings w'en she talks. Unc Sobo, 'e was a 'ealer, one of de bes. And matant Mireille 'er be toug' an' brave. And funny.

There were things she caught on—mostly that he referred to Sobo in the past tense, which disturbed her. She locked onto the singing-lady, which jogged her memory.

Your manman, she murmured, remembering. She sings?

She mostly wanted to delve into his family, to delve into them—living or dead—to revive or to mourn. But she was scared to figure out which was which.

Eti hadn't wanted to admit his uncle was dead. But his granme and uncle had been teaching him to heal and healing came with losses.

He looked at her sadly. Uncle Sobo only ever talked me a few times. I didn't know 'im all dat well. Do you t'ink...dat I be a bad one, if I don't be missin' 'im like everyone else?

he frowned at that and lay his head to his paws, a small whine in his throat. He nodded at her question.

'er does. 'er 'as a 'ard time talkin' sometimes so, 'er sings it instead. 'er 'as angel wings on 'er back and dressed in gold and black. Dat me manman. Chacal.

She didn't answer the question for a moment. Let him talk it out, and smiled at his description of Chacal. She'd fit in quite well with the storytellers of her family, Wraen and Maia. Singing was still storytelling, after all.

You're not a bad one, Lilitu reassured softly. It's. . .hard. It happens so quickly. When my mother died, I was away, and I barely had time to adjust to it.

The sky was gray; soon, it would be night. Perhaps clouds would still cover the stars, then, but—

I was told our loved ones live forever in the stars, Eti, she offered, lifting her muzzle to the heavens. On a clear night, look out—Sobo's there. And you can say goodbye if you want.

Her throat began to tighten, hard and fast, and she tried to swallow.

A small twitch of his tail at teh thought of his mother. I not a very good singer, but I like to 'um and listen to manman. Suzu likes to sing I t'ink.

Etienne sighed. I tried to fix 'im, but I couldn't put 'im back toget'er. Too broken.

He looked up at her words and smiled. I like dat. It be fittin' I'll do dat w'en I be ready. T'ank you Lady Lilitu for takin' care of us. And for comin' to us.

You— Couldn't. It eviscerated her. She looked at the boy, mourning a young man torn so asunder by the bear. Had nothing to say.

Stuttered, and then. . .

Thank you, Etienne, Lilitu managed through tight throat, eyes welling. For helping me remember. They stood together, thinking of the important things of their souls.

Sobo, where are you?

Scattered, or together?

Perhaps she'd one day be able to point these youths toward his visage in the sky.

He smiled at her though it was a little off center and didn't reach his eyes. The worse part of all this, was that he couldn't fix it for them all. he couldn't put his family back together. He couldn't hold them fast and safe and tight. That was the true scar to the young male.

You be welcome.

He lay a nudge to her shoulder and stood next to her shoudler to shoulder, in the shared grief.