Dawnlark Plains baby, there’s a fog over the pier

Backdated to April 18, 2018. I was hoping for @Dawn or @Lavender; I know Adawntya are going wandering but hopefully this is early enough to catch you before you leave?

Coelacanth is in the first phase of her heat and is NOT considered fertile. “During proestrus, the start of the estrous cycle, the bitch attracts male dogs, but is still not receptive to breeding.” This phase will last through April 20, 2018.

TRAVEL LOG
April 13, 2018: Sea Lion Shores
April 14, 2018: Horizon Ridge
April 15, 2018: Raven’s Watch
April 16, 2018: Hushed Willows
April 16 — 18, 2018: Morningside

Spending time with her sister-cousin and the rest of her Morningside family had been idyllic, but Coelacanth knew now what she wanted, and what she needed to do to achieve those ends. First on the list of imperatives was getting home, and not solely because of her desire to be protected and sheltered by her mate. She needed to confront Komodo about what had transpired between them and assert herself as the pack’s Aralez. Tiny as she was, the sheepdog was not a little girl any longer, and part of being a leader was having enough confidence to champion her convictions.

She couldn’t leave before visiting with Dawn and Lavender, though. They had celebrated the Hunter’s Moon together, but prior to that her interactions with them had been slim to none. She was entranced by the slender, long-legged huntress Dawn had become, and spellbound by the bobtailed girl with the mottled cape of rose and lilac paisley. Without knowing the terrain, her ability to gather gifts was severely handicapped, but she bore within her teeth the gleaming onyx horn of the goat she’d helped bring down for Dawn and was presently staring in consternation down at a pretty-looking stone for Lavender. How was she going to call for them? How was she going to fit both the stone and the horn in her mouth? The impossible predicament of, “if I want to pick up the rock, I have to put down the horn, but I really do not want to put the horn down, but I really want to pick up the rock,” kept the dumbfounded Groenendael from moving in a sort of self-inflicted paralysis.

the enchanting, atramentous woman was among their ranks, and Dawn had picked up her scent easily when the news had reached her. it had been a long while since she'd seen her, and yet she'd yet to loose the sharp interest and fondness she had for the woman who always seemed, to her, at least, to be as ethereal and enthralling as the far-fetched tales of her youth. 

she found her soon, some shining thing clutched tight in her jaws and gaze fixed on some other treasure. dawn chuffed her greeting, molten gaze falling on the woman as a brightly did a name fall from her maw.  "seelie." smile curved her muzzle and tail wafted softly as her head canted a fraction, wondering at the woman's predicament.

“Seelie.”

An animated, soundless bark split Coelacanth’s fox-fine muzzle as she turned to face the silverspun huntress. Her love for Dawn was quieter and gentler than the exuberant nonsense she normally threw at Sunny, but no less warm. Overjoyed by the fact that she was in fact carrying Dawn’s gift, and more than a little grateful that she didn’t have to put it back down again or try to also fit the stone in her mouth, the sheepdog danced forward and set the gleaming obsidian horn reverently at the young wolf’s paws. “Dawn,” she whispered, her cerulean eyes crinkling at the corners with delighted affection. “For you.” Coelacanth tended to believe that all wolves were collectors like her fiery-furred twin, so she didn’t feel the need to explain the reason for giving her gift — but she did want to explain the reasoning behind choosing it. “H-Happy life for you.”

“Strrrong,” she added, muzzle snaking forth as quick and sinuous as an eel. She closed her teeth around it to make a soft click-clack sound before drawing back, wriggling appealingly as she added, “and beauty.” It was a prize fit for a huntress, and though Seelie would have preferred something a little more impressive — a shark’s tooth, maybe — the horn would have to do.

seelie presented her then with the shining artifact she held clamped in her jaws; a horn, obsidian and polished. she had rarely given or received material things before, and yet she took to the horn immediately; not for its beauty but instead for what it represented, what it meant. 

her nose trailed over the horn, tracing its contours, before taking the thing carefully in her muzzle and drawing it towards herself, dropping it at her paws only so that she may speak without the gift hindering her tongue. thank you, came her gratitude, soft and sincere. it's beautiful, seelie. I'm sorry I don't have a gift for you. it felt wrong to have no offering set aside for the woman, but perhaps was best; Dawn was inexperienced (to say the least) in the art of gift-giving and knew not where to begin.

Dawn’s apology was met with a quizzical expression; the Groenendael’s head tilted to the left, then the right, a physical manifestation of her confusion. “No sorry,” she breathed, nuzzling at the girl’s cheek with unabashed fondness. “Dawn — and Adi — happy life, ever. Best gift.” It would be the greatest gift of all for her cousin and her friend — (could she still call him that?) — to continue to grow together and love one another wholly. “I go,” she whispered to the young huntress. “Home, Undersea. I go.” Her Neptune eyes were misty as she looked the taller wolf over, remembering when she had to bend down to make her acquaintance. “Dawn, visit, please?”

---

With promises exchanged to visit one another’s respective homes, Seelie and Dawn parted ways — utterly unaware of how the near future would irrevocably change both of their lives.