Nova Peak gou san

sobeille was gone. she had disappeared and not returned, and mireille placed such blame upon swiftcurrent alone.
there grew in her a great demand; she had not gotten her blood and now miette was missing.
men; damned! mireille roamed far from the shoreline, moving inland with a mother's perception. the taiga had been her sought paradise when she had went out to conceive.
while the obsidian did not believe that her daughter had left for any related purpose, it would not do to leave such an expanse unroamed.
at regular intervals she howled for sobeille, circling the cold lone mountain and shouting from each terrace as she ascended.
and fear rose alongside the rage.

They had taken refuge at Bracken Sanctuary, but she ventured beyond. How could she not? Atlas had been calling the shots and firing off orders for seasons, now, leaving her in the lurch; she could not stand to be in one place after traveling south and seeing lands she hadn't before.

The desperate, plaintive call caught her ear, and Morticia followed it, her own floppy auds swinging as she trotted along the rocky hillside. She finally caught sight of the wolf, and barked at her in response, chin lifted in question.

A new friend? She found herself lacking those, these days.

a bark. green eyes narrowed toward the sight of the canine creature. in a springtime past, one of her worshippers had worn such a cast, and so she was comfortable enough to approach.
breath tasted; her stare did not waver as wind pressed red fur against her flat muscles. "i be lookin' for a young woman. small wid a black face. fur like rich eart'. yellow eyes."
the wind threatened to take her voice. "she be my daughter an' it isnae like her to be gone so long."

She was looking for a woman. No, not just any woman—her daughter. Morticia's verdant gaze widened in concern, her lips pulling into a frown.

I'm so sorry she is lost, the matriarch replied, shaking her head ruefully. Of course I will look out for her. Do you know of any reason why she would have gone?

Morticia might be cruel, vindictive, sullen. . .but she was a mother, too, and thus the worry wasn't entirely feigned on her behalf.

She turned and pointed with her nose in the direction she'd came. My husband and I have set up camp on the edge of the great forest, she replied, looking back toward the woman. If you need a place to rest during your search, you are welcome to our hearth.

Atlas might not be pleased with the proffered invitation, but, whatever. She'd long taken the approach of asking for forgiveness rather than permission with her dear divine mate.