Ankyra Sound blood ties

Sialuk skirted between two packs, through a marsh, toward the sound and spray of the ocean. The cloudcover grew more dense as she made her way through the tall sequoia trees and down to the sandy beach. Her feet tired and her muscles cramping, she found a quiet alcove near the base of the cliffs. She had scarcely slept the past two days, and it was wearing on her. Sleep took her quickly, and soon she was thrust into a dreamless void, the only rest she would get for now.

When she woke, darkness enveloped the world. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and she was glad to find that the tides were low, the small pools of fish making for an easy meal. She caught several small fish, dodged the claw of a crab, and then found a surface to relax and digest before she moved on.

sobeille knew better than to stay in the sound after dark. there was something eerie about the grotto -- and the walls teemed with waking life and loa.

she emerged from the mouth of the grotto and the rushing of night met her. for a second she blinked dimly, drinking in the change that had come over the world.

she had not meant to lose so much time.

a figure ahead caught her attention. its lean silhouette bent against the sand - dipping sometimes, sitting other times. from this distance it was clear it was eating.

sleepy-eyed and with an aspect of detached bewilderment, sobeille drew near. do you be a loa?

Sialuk scarcely noticed the small, inky being that approached her, so wrapped in her own thoughts. She spoke a word Sialuk did not know, and the dappled wolf tilted her head. What is this loa? she asked. Only once she knew the word could she be sure she was or was not what this child sought. The girl reminded her of Acrux with his dark coat, and Sialuk found herself missing him. Perhaps soon it would be time to go home.

that settled it. this thing didn't even know what a loa was.

sobeille fixed her with a look she liked to believe was all knowing. a loa be like a ghost. there was nothing ghostly about this woman, save the pallid shade of her pelt. dis place is where loa live. val tol' me, an' i didn't believe him. den i saw one -- she motioned to the black mouth of the grotto. in dere.

Sialuk listened to the child's explanation, the single-word description pairing with her own knowledge of spirits and ancestors quite nicely. I know them as spirits, ancestors, Sialuk said. She had not seen them, but their whispers came to her when she spent time with the bones, or when she listened to the wind in the trees on Moonspear's slopes. What did this spirit—loa—do? she asked, curious to know if this child also had a strong connection to the otherworld as she had her whole life.

Her own gaze fell on the grotto where the child had indicated she had seen the spirit, and Sialuk expected the apparition to appear at any moment.

sobeille kind of hoped the apparition would appear; but it didn't.

she took in a deep breath, studying this woman. the last time she had shared something with a stranger, she hadn't anticipated the reaction. the girl had been upset, when sobeille expected excitement.

sobeille stood to her full height, which wasn't impressive. de loa showed me t'ings. her eyes were suddenly hard. what do you know about loa -- de spirits -- den? are dey my ancestors? or yours?

There was a seriousness to the girl that Sialuk had not expected from someone of her size. She spoke of visions from the loa, and Sialuk found herself intrigued. A trade of experiences and knowledge was in order. They whisper on the wind to me, Sialuk said. And in reading bones, they can tell me things that are out of reach. She paused then, regarding the second question for a time.

The ancestors I know and those you know may be one and the same, she said, but one cannot be sure. Perhaps one day they will tell us, or perhaps it is not for us to know until we travel to the land of the dancing lights and become a spirit among them.

so much had just been unloaded on sobeille. she didn't know where to start.

her little mind raced through it all. dancing lights. winds that talked. bones that somehow spoke of the land beyond.

finally she blurted: show me! a little too loud. a little too intense. sobeille leaned back on her heels, ears sweeping back in a gesture of apology. what de reading bones be? an' de dancin' lights? 'ow do you know all dis?

It appeared she had another eager student on her paws. Not driven by the will to protect something as Seal had been, but eager nonetheless. The starwoman had never been one to withhold from others her gift, especially from those who appeared so keen on learning. In a week's time, come to my village. It is called Moonspear. Not the range closest to here, but the one south and west; the tallest peak among them. I will show you the bones, speak what tales weave for you. Much I learned from anaa, my mother. Much I could teach you.

sobeille listened, a thousand questions reined in by pressing the tip of her tongue to her teeth.

i dunno where dat is. sobeille admitted, defeat softening the firm edges of her ears. though the moonwoman gave sobeille a general direction, she knew nothing of the world immediately outside of sapphique. i dont t'ink my maman would like me running off. moreso, maybe val -- he seemed annoyingly concerned about all the children wandering.

who is your maman -- aana?

The girl did not know the place Sialuk spoke of, and the starwoman wondered if she could make the journey instead. The children—if they came at all—would not arrive until the moon became full twice more. She knew what it was to not want her own children to run away, and she thought of Rolayne, too. He would need to make a decision about where he wished to stay in the months to come, even if that meant remaining with the spear. Sialuk knew that she could not return with him to Moontide permanently.

Aya, she is called Kukutux; anaa is the sunshine word for mother. Where do you and your maman live? she asked. I could make a path to your village and bring the bones to teach you.

sobeille’s stern face briefly lit with interest. i know dat one — she be de lady wit’ de furs. sobeille thumbed at her nose in thought.

i be from saffique. the prospect of learning the art of bone-reading intrigued sobeille - perhaps more than kukutux’s pelts had. ’ow long would it take you?

It was not a surprise that the child would know anaa; Kukutux was well-known among many in the area. The mention of Sapphique brought to Sialuk's face a similar look of recognition. I know Sapphique well, she said, a warm smile. Village sister to me made a home there for many moons.

She calculated the time it would take between where she was now, the end of her fever week, and accounted for a few additional days for rest and recouperation in her ulaq when she arrived home. In two and ten sunsets, I bring the bones to Sapphique, she said. Perhaps she would bring Maggak along to visit the place and see a different way of living.

sobeille gasped. this woman knew her pack, and possibly her maman and tante. what came next was even more exciting — she promised to bring the bones to sapphique.

sobeille quickly did the math; twelve days seemed an impossibly long length of time to a child who had no responsibilities save their own amusement. she hid her disappointment, gaze bright with excitement for the coming evening where she would learn all about being a moonwoman who could read bones. do i ‘ave to bring my own bones? she asked, wondering if sialuk would be interested in the small collection she’d found combing the beach with astera.

If you have them, Sialuk said. Those you have found yourself will attune to you more quickly. The starwoman knew this intuitively. She felt that the child could read the bones that Sixsix provided, but it would be a stronger connection and an easier read if she brought those she had already handled.

Where have you found them? she asked, curious if she had a relationship with a creature such as Sixsix or if she had another method of procuring them. There was, as far as Sialuk knew, no right or wrong way to procure the truth-telling bones.

sobeille could not help the soft gasp of excitement that escaped her to learn that the bones she'd discovered herself could be useful. while she had always had a grim fascination with the macabre, learning that there was utility in bones beyond keepsake intrigued her.

she was about to share where she had made such discovery, when a wave of covetous suspicion rippled under her skin. what if sialuk was asking so she could score more bones for her collection?

de beach. sobeille settled on at length. a part truth - the strand was famous for spitting out bodies, but it wasn't the whole truth. some she had found in the grotto. do antlers count?

Perhaps the child had found a spirit within the waves themselves. Sialuk had always been drawn to the mountains—specifically the one she had been born upon—but she knew that power could be drawn from any great thing. The sea, like the spear, was powerful, beautiful, and dangerous if one did not know how to respect it.

Sialuk nodded at the girl's question. If they have power in them, yes. You will know when they have this.

You may call me Sialuk. What is the name given to you? she asked.

sobeille was certain that boneflower had this power. there was something about it that captivated her. perhaps the moon-wolf would feel it too.

i be sobeille. she straightened her back, her eyes a surprising shade of doeful. sialuk moonwoman, do you promise?

last from me! trying to wrap up some old ones.

Sobeille, Sialuk repeated with a twitch of her lip. It was a pretty name. The girl asked if she promised, and Sialuk nodded solemnly. I do, she said. There were other things to attend to before she returned, and Sialuk grew restless. Long days and pleasant nights, Sobeille. They would meet again soon enough.

long days and pleasant nights.

sobeille liked this phrase -- she repeated it to herself well after sialuk had left. the promise of seeing this moonwoman soon excited her, and eager, sobeille bid for home at a speedy clip.

she would wait expectantly -- perhaps too excitedly -- for the return of sialuk in two and ten sunsets.