Shadewood and you, o blessed goddess

it had been a good choice to come to the forest, erzulie decided. the forest butted against a tall swathe of rock; there were entrances into the woodland only at the front.
it was quite a dark place, she decided, the thick canopies twisted as to let very little rain through, but with that, a decided absence of light. and yet she did not feel so removed from the sea as she had been at the plateau, for upon her patrols she could catch glimpses of the moors, and knew the salt lay not far beyond.
snapping her teeth toward a pair of foxes who had not yet vacated the treeline, erzulie paced proudly between a pair of elms, arching against them to leave a rusalkan mark in the hanging tufts of her fur.

As Erzulie paced, so did Rosalyn, cutting along the southern border with a purpose.  She'd essentially abdicated her post at her wife's side, secluding to tend to the quiet Chacal and to deal with the overwhelming stress of life after children, but that made little difference.  There was a time she'd have been horrified;  now, she was just faintly rueful.

They were too young for her to leave behind to scout, unfortunately, though their proximity meant this might be for the best.  What had that pack's name been, the one enemy they had left here?  She thought on it as she moved.

It was at that moment Erzulie came into view, her route finally meeting the other's pacing.  She cut a fierce figure, and for a moment Rosalyn paused, appreciating. The sight of her never failed to bring a giddy twinge in the pirate, even years after that reaction likely should have tempered.

I think anything would be smart to think twice before trying us, but no trouble yet, she said, indicating the direction she'd been.  I'm surprised we haven't been bothered yet, but seems like we managed to find a spot with no neighbors.

like her wife, erzulie too appreciated the look of her pirate; she was a fearsome thing, but beauty haloed her for the glory of rosalyn's ferocious dedication to their children, to her, and to rusalka. even if that love demanded the voyager to take a lower post, she had done it, and lost no esteem in eyes of her wife. 
no man could meet the standards the sea-warrior had set in erzulie's heart. 
"i would be loat' to attack us," the harlot purled, eyes resting lovingly upon her companion's features. "but neighbors we have, i feah, furt'er inland."
she stopped, glanced out beneath the dripping boughs to the moorlands they had only just left.  "remember when we met caiaphas, upon de plateau? she spoke of redhawks. like de one who attacked you." the golden wench. "not long ago i met a girl named maia. she was a firebird. she told me dat niamh still existed."
"an' den one of de medics who brought raleska home spoke of some pack called de frosthawks. obsessed w de birds, all of dem," she sighed in exasperation. "dey not be by de sea, but out dere. we have kept de peace so far," erzulie muttered with a pained gaze. "for once i be tired of it all, rosalyn."

It had been a while since Rosalyn had needed to think of any enemies.  It had been a nice thought, perhaps, that they no longer had any.  But she recalled the Redhawks as Erzulie mentioned them, the one whose name their daughter shared.  She wondered again where Firefly had gotten it... coincidence, surely.

I know that name, she mused, distracted from her wife's description only for a moment by the memory.  When I was looking for you, there was a blind girl.  I almost thought it might be kinder to leave her... but I returned her to the Firebirds.  She was likely dead by now... Rosalyn doubted the world was kind to her.  I didn't connect the two, but you are probably right.  She let out a quick, quiet huff of a laugh.

It has been quiet here a long time, for us.  I'm not worried about any birds, she said with sureness.  They won't venture from their trees, and even if they do, I doubt they'll want the trouble it would start.  She felt the weariness in Erzulie's voice, though, and the tension.  They'd been at war on so many sides for so long, it was hard to imagine this peace could hold.  She'd grip it as hard as she could, to make sure it did not slip past.

rosalyn. direct. firm. assured. erzulie could maintain no major trepidation in the face of her wife's statement, and so let her shoulders relax. a smile climbed her lips; she leant into a breeze carried from the roiled sea and blinked. "i choose to believe you, kònèy mwen." there was nothing to it; nothing that could not be changed in an eyeblink.
however, they had not chosen one another for lack of trust. she paused, nudged into the round muscle of rosalyn's hardened bicep a moment. "i already be homesick for what we lef' behind." the den where their daughters had been born, and where valravn and regin were brought to be reared. filled with water, no doubt, and all trace of rusalka bleeding steadily into nothing from the bent heads of heather whipped by rain.

Hopefully soon we'll be able to go back, Rosalyn answered.  She'd expected to feel the same, but oddly, she did not.  Maybe it was the constant rain, but for some reason she felt just as okay here as she had on the moors... and as she had on the plateau.  For a second she felt a strike of melancholy on it... as if she'd lost something she couldn't quite put words to.

I think Solaire and the other children miss it too.  It was less apparent in her siblings, but she'd noticed that they all seemed a bit withdrawn in a way since coming here.  Children were resilient, but change could be hard.

the rain would not keep them away forever. she nodded at her wife's observation regarding solaire. from place to place she did not wish to move them, but it seemed rusalka was doomed to a nomadic nature no matter their best efforts to extend roots into the ground. 
"there be so much lan' to explore," the harlot sighed then, gesturing to the expanse beyond them. "an' yet i am content to see none of it. to live out my days heah." what could such places offer but the threat of blood? erzulie had already decided where her bones would lie.

I am the same, she replied, and she knew it was true despite the small doubts that whispered.  It had been so long since any place held her heart, but no matter the place, Rosalyn's path would lead where her family's did.  There was a time she'd have allowed restless wandering to carry her away, but those years were long past.  She could call herself pirate all she liked, but she'd hung up her sails the instant she'd become a mother.

Retirement was not what bothered her.  Conflict was not what was missing, she knew that.  Rosalyn was silent a moment, considering it.  I think, maybe, it just doesn't feel as though it is ours.  Not in the way other places have.  She finally confessed.  She had been struggling with how to put it in words, and this was perhaps the closest approximation she could find.  Ironsea had been hers.  She'd left her mark on the culture, on the crew, all of it.  Rusalka had belonged to Caiaphas, and the witch's hand had wrought the pack that Aningan still attempted to uphold.  There was nothing of theirs in the soul of it, and she'd like to see that change, even if it was only some small way.  Something they could make, together.

the truth of it rang resounding within erzulie. they had kept rusalka hale, bound it with their children. but rusalka did not belong to her, nor her wife. rosalyn's admission and the following rush of unrealized emotions sent the harlot's gaze into the distance.
for a moment she was seized with a rage, then a sadness that refused to be resigned to what her mate had revealed. "how do we make dis place ours, den?" came her quiet rejoinder, even as her eyes moved to those of the pirate. how had she been so apt? no shock, not truly; only awe that her wife was able so swiftly to cut into the heart of the matter.

Rosalyn perhaps should have expected the question, but she'd half expected her wife to refute her.  Erzulie had taken to Aningan with more warmth then Rosalyn, and to this pack with more fervor.  Yet even she felt it, and the comraderie both bolstered and troubled her; now it was not for she alone this needed solved.

But how to fix it?

They'd left Aningan to it for a reason, and reworking what was here might not go over well.  He'd taken his task to continue seriously and upheld all as it was; it was admirable, but naive in Rosalyn's eyes.  The siren was dead... Rusalka dead with her.  It was a harsh view and more bitter than expected; yet they could not simply end this place and start over.  It was not reasonable, and Rosalyn had lost her taste for wanton treason in the previous years.

I think I haven't gotten that far yet.  she finally answered, with a chagrined smile and a shrug.  But it is worth thinking about.  It wasn't perhaps something they could solve overnight anyway.  Some opportunity would present itself, perhaps... or some specific instance let itself be known.

erzulie herself might have mirrored rosalyn's thoughts, had she heard them. caiaphas had taken the heart of their being in death with her, for surely she lived no longer. and the harlot had not forgotten that raleska had been dragged away by whatever foul postmortem demand the sea-hag had made.
theirs was an odd role now, to be charged with protection of rusalka and dedication to it whilst holding no name for themselves. and yet she was attached to the title of it, to its history, to the blood and bones that had forged it. she would not forsake rusalka. rosalyn led them in this, and with a low breath, erzulie relinquished her worries and kissed the pirate's cheek. "whatever might come, i will be by your side, an' you beside mine."

Perhaps not every wolf needed to have a claim to their home, but Rosalyn was conceited enough to know that she and Erzulie deserved it.  More even than the title, but something lasting that would make it seem more home for them as well.  Her mind continued to spin on it, but she pushed it to the back, something to pick at in the coming days.  She smiled as her wife affirmed the promise they had made a dozen times before.  It never got old.

Is there anything you would change?  It was in line with the question that she had just been asked, but a bit different, because it was more fanciful.  It was also broad.  Rosalyn could have tacked on an 'about Rusalka', but she left it, choosing to end the thought where it did.

"de ranks. dey should reflect de sea," she murmured. she wished for the cascade of salt to belong to them once more. the moors had become their home, but the harlot knew when the snows arrived they must once more retreat to the trees.
it was where little chacal had spent the early part of her childhood, after all. she could not deny that, no more than she could deny the ache in her breast that rusalka, truly, still did not belong to she and to rosalyn.

Rosalyn thought about what that might look like.  She liked that idea, but she felt a pang of guilt.  Maybe it was time to be honest, at least with her wife.  She'd been dealing with this herself, but perhaps Erzulie would have insight Rosalyn lacked.

I like that.  It was better than the norm, the pirate ranks that she'd always held to.  She paused, then sighed.  I used to think that the sea would always be what I needed.  But lately, whenever you or the children talk of it, I can't seem to find the same need.  It's as if I don't even miss it now.

It felt good to admit it.  She'd considered dancing around it until she could resolve why things had changed, but it did not feel right to hide something like this.  Not when they were speaking of home and desires.

the thought cooled erzulie, paced her with worry. "for de sea to go out of a pirate," she breathed softly, eyes velvet with concern. "perhaps it is all de fightin' we have done beside de ocean," the harlot suggested with a heavy stirring within her, syrup bobbed along the bottom of a glass.
"maybe it not be de right salt," she spoke aloud in the following moment. mismatched eyes shifted to rosalyn. the moors had been home, but perhaps it was not in her wife's heart to reside in so flat a place. their bay. the cliffs. expression warmed as she waited to see if the sailor might understand her suggestion.

Maybe.  Perhaps one of them, perhaps none, perhaps all.  She could not tell.  It had not been right since before the shaking, and at this point, she couldn't quite grasp what had drawn her to it from the first.  Other things filled her heart, so it wasn't a shattering loss.  But still a loss.

Perhaps I've just been too long away from it.  She caught the meaning, but she hesitated to latch on.  She was not sure what the right salt would be, and to move them now?  For only her sake?  Seemed a heavy charge.  They'd come here and settled with reason, and since doing so, she'd scarce traversed the neighboring stretch to the sand.

fade this? <3

she swung closer, sighed along the short fur of her mate's cheekbone. "we should go back." and by that she meant a thousand things, and none at all. craving rosalyn's nearness, the completion of her focus, erzulie shot her wife a glance that suggested more, and let her scarred muzzle brighten with a pleasant smirk.
time to remind her pirate that they were more than leadership and mothers, that the flame between them still burned as fiercely as it ever had.

<3

It didn't matter what she felt, that look from Erzulie was all it took.  She returned the smirk with a gaze that was suddenly heated, then nipped her softly on the shoulder with playful invitation.  They had some time before they needed to check on the rest of things, and the idea of disappearing together for a time was too enticing a thought to ignore.  The moors hadn't been blessed with many places to disappear to, but this forest had plenty to offer.

WC: 83