Blacktail Deer Plateau unhilt the black grimoire of death

aw but maybe @Aningan?

maybe her children were doomed to wander alone. 
the woman busied herself with sorting through last year's medicinal stores, whatever she had been able to salvage, discarding what had rotted or was too old to be used. it was a dismally small pile she retained in the end, but the task gave her wandering mind some peace.
she did not enjoy it here, even with rosalyn returned; the harlot was often bored and always burdened with her failures as mother.
she would not bear again.
shoulders hunched against the bright white sky of cold afternoon, erzulie was silent.

The smell of rotted plant matter didn't fit within the antiseptic-white and frigidity of winter. Better suited to autumn when last he caught it in his nose, mingled with tree sap and the dying embers of the world. He trailed after the scent on the off-chance it might lead him to food, unaware that the people of the plateau kept herbs and things for their own use; Tuvak had been oblivious to all such things upon the mountain, consumed by his innate aggression which was directed in to training (and then later mourning) - he had no use for plants nor any understanding of them.

His path soon dipped in to a gulley and he followed the bend until he saw a gossamer figure, small but svelte, peering at the earth while the vaguely lit sky eddied overhead. The woman appeared to be focused on their work, so Tuvak used this as a means to practice his stealth and attempted to slip closer without being detected.

focused, though the plateau still unsettled the jezebel. she had never quite accepted it as home, and even now her pelt prickled with the weight of unseen eyes.
head raised sharply; erzulie blinked at a blurred bit of ash-grey in the distance. lips pursed, but there was no sensuous indication of danger. 
still, she remained vigilant even with head down over her work once more.
her eyes had begun to hurt; irritation mounted. 

Little by little he crept closer, thinking he was being as quiet as a mouse. If he was, it was a giant mouse. His steps crunched against sand or snow or both, and when he thought it wise to creep along the frozen yellow grass further along, the cacophony of his movements grated in his ears and made him revert back to creeping the sand.

When he thought he was within striking distance (or at least a wolf-length) Tuvak drew his limbs beneath himself like a cat, steadied, and launched. He had hoped to aim for the woman's tail — but somersaulted his face in to a segment of wet (probably frozen) sand adjacent.

erzulie flung up her head, surprised; hackles clambered in shock atop her sharpjut shoulders, but all at once she had smoothed into a visibly amused veneer of calm. "i see you been practicin' dat stalk," the harlot teased gently, standing to her paws. 
he was young, and she fully expected him to be embarrassed. standing over the boy, she lowered her muzzle. "would you like a lesson?"

The clonk of his head against the sand sent pain shooting down his neck and in to his shoulders, and his body rolled with the momentum of his limp body so that he did an awkward somersault and ended up on his back. The boy lifted his forelimbs to his face and pawed at his snout and cheeks, wincing, his eyes watering for a minute - and as Erzulie approached she was a blob of golden light until he could clear his vision.

Then she was looming over him, speaking, being simultaneously charming and intimidating according to Tuvak. He didn't like that he'd failed nor that he'd hurt himself, but the boy wasn't going to cry about it or let himself feel bad for the failure. When she offered to teach him something, he sniffled a bit and rolled to his belly, watching her.

I can hunt, he claimed, his tone insistent, as if he hadn't just face planted moments ago. And I know how to fight too! I'm good at it. Still, that wasn't a no. When he was finished trying to prove himself verbally he huffed and settled against the sand, his eyes diverted to the slight depression his skull had left there. What.. sort of lesson?

her healer's eyes scanned the embarrassed boy's pupils for a millisecond, but saw nothing worth noting. for now. following the line of his gaze, erzulie gave a low chuff.
"come wid me to flatlands," the harlot invited, turning to find a path that would take the pair to the sprawling, snowbound plains below the plateau.
it was the best place he might learn; even if he did not come, she would go to keep her own instincts honed.