Dragoncrest Cliffs Sundown in the Paris of the Prairies

As the sun began to set and burn crimson against the coastline, Chacal finally found her way back to the borders of the place she had once called home. With her, she carried a small, shrub-like plant with its roots still carefully intact and while it was well past its flowering season, it still bore its faint, lavender scent. On her way, she had passed through the moors, and had not been able to pass up the opportunity to bring with her a small keepsake from her birthplace. 

This place, though, was her home too- and like the sea lavender she belonged here. She fretted as she gingerly set the plant down, worried about the questions she might face, and the possibility that she might be kept at arm's length because of her silent disappearance. It stressed her, too, to think she would have to explain herself. 

But the borders smelled of her mothers, of Njord, of home and familiarity- and there was a warm solace that came from knowing they were safe, and still here.

Heart racing, she panted a few times, a whisper of a whine dekeing quietly into her breaths before she summoned the courage to howl. Her howl wavered, the same way the red light of dusk danced on the waves in the distance.

She did not recognize the howl. Of late, Rosalyn tended the borders with more and more reluctance, and rarely did she do a full circuit if she did. She would not express or admit that doing so set her to aching more than the effort seemed to be worth. If she stiffened she was even more useless come the following day.

The call was distant to where she prowled, tracking the trail of a marten down the forest slope. Rosalyn's ear turned towards it and she lifted a lip with impatience. She would have to let the trail run cold to answer it... but there was no guarantee another would.

Fine. She turned from the hunt and cut a straight line towards the call, but it was likely still some time before she appeared in front of Chacal.

At first her demeanor was annoyed intent, but as soon as Rosalyn saw her daughter's face, that changed to blank surprise. Chacal?

She had been gone, but why? Where? Should she know? Shock, and the confusion it brought, held her in place.

rosalyn.
her wife did not sleep and did not appear so much upon the borders. she had been attuned to her wife for years and now was no different.
it had been good to see reyes, but she did not expect chacal's call to float through the coastal twilight.
erzulie discovered rosalyn staring and chacal grown sinewy and beautiful, sea flowers nearby.
she nudged her mate and came forward, a smile glowing on her lips. "my beloved."
the obsidian reached to touch chacal, as if to assure herself that the girl standing before her selkie-wild and lovely indeed and truly existed.

While she wauted, a tempest brewed within her, subdued every now and again by the reassuring belief that her mothers would welcome her home. So often her siblings had left, and so pure had their concern been that surely, any forgiveness they had shown to her siblings they would show to her as well. Still- doubt curled up comfortably within her consciousness like a cat nestled in the glow of the fireside. 

The first to appear was the battle-worn Rosalyn, whose expression caused Chacal's doubts to rile and awaken, shaking her posture and crumpling her self-confidence. She had frozen, the word of her daughter's name seemingly a magic trick that caused her to stiffen. Chacal's breaths quickened, lips parted; silence was still her easiest companion. 

Like a breeze, Erzulie slipped past her mate and Chacal could only hope her touch might break the spell that kept Rosalyn at a distance. She did not rush forward to greet her daughter but Chacal was swept forward to close the gap between them as though ushered by a wave. Her tail fanned from side to side at her hocks as she bowed her head and pressed her shoulder against her mother's chest, squeezing her eyes shut as she nuzzled her nose deep into her brine-laced fur.

The bear had taken her.  No.  She had... but it would not finish.  The pieces were nowhere to be found and even if they appeared, it was a harder and harder task to piece them correctly. 

A while ago she had realized that she no longer remembered how many children they had.... or had lost. She did not tell her wife, nor would she. How could she?

The joy of seeing Chacal again was marred, as so many things were lately, by the insidious feeling that her own mind was betraying her. It held her in lock while Erzulie came in alongside, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen and doing what she had needed, but failed, to do. What is happening?

How long she had been gone, why she had left, the circumstances. She could only hope none asked.

Her first step forward was tentative, as though she were infringing. Erzulie had already encircled her but Rosalyn reached out, pressing her forehead gently to her daughter's available shoulder. It's good to see you. She said, closing her eyes. It should have felt wrong to feel so much like a stranger around her own children, when only a short time ago they'd been her entire world. But she had no way of knowing what all was being stolen... or how the theft was changing her.

last time she had seen chacal, she knew that music was there.
nothing truly had changed in the girl's absence. solaire had dispersed, while arcelia remained. sapphique was still a place of women and sisters, though she thought warmly of njord. sobo and loko had been raised inside this framework.
she kissed chacal's ears and sighed. the girl's pelt told the tale of many places through scent.
"we will plant dis wherever you like," she told her daughter, beaming between the returned young face and the profile of her beloved wife.

While she leaned into Erzulie's embrace, her whole body wriggled when she saw the darker form of Rosalyn approach and reach out as well. Like a loving cat, she arched her back and wound her way along the near side of one mother, and then along the side of the other until she had herself pressed between them. 

She nodded eagerly with reference to the lavender. And like the plant, she too hoped that she could find her home here, so with pleading eyes she regarded Erzulie and huffed a quiet, hopeful breath.

As Chacal pressed against her and wound, catlike, Rosalyn embraced her daughter's shoulders and briefly closed her eyes, an overwhelming gratitude suddenly overcoming her. Their family was scattered, the pieces harder and harder to grasp and to hold onto. But the children this year, and Reyes' return, and now Chacal... they were indicators of the life the others were likely leading. Regardless of if she stayed.

Rosalyn missed the look that Chacal gave to Erzulie, but she did wonder the answer to if she wished to stay. The fact that she was welcome home was a given... it was a given for any of them, always, no matter what might happen or how many times they might leave.

"always," she said to her daughter's questioning eyes.
the three of them in an embrace now, affirming that this was a place of women.
for a long moment of awareness, filling her mind now.
eventually, they would need one of their own to inherit the seastones of this place.
the smell of lavender filled the air and she wondered, knowing it was not yet time for such a discussion.
"welcome home, chacal."

Like a yearling colt she frisked sideways, tail lashing in broad circles behind her. She crooned, a fragmented but nevertheless very happy sound. Her jittering jaw clicked her teeth together, as she felt relief flood through her. Now, she could look forward to seeing her old friends, and getting to know her new siblings. 

With assured gentleness, she swooped down to pick up the plant she had brought, and crow-hopped along, glancing coyly over her shoulder hoping to lead her mothers to a suitable planting site.