Shadewood I'm writing from the future and you're doing ok

Rosalyn had indeed begun to give her daughter more room to roam, but it wasn't without trepidation.  It had become clearer and clearer, as she grew, that the child was different.  Rosalyn loved her fiercely, and would hear no judgements, but that did not mean she did not worry.  She was glad that her daughter had the others, but they only drew starker contrast.  She never spoke, shied from others, and showed no signs of ever uttering a word.

The only one she'd expressed any worries to was @Erzulie, but she knew there was little they could do.  Solaire and Arcelia thrived, as did Valravyn and Regin.  @Chacal perhaps did too... but in her own way.  And they'd each grow into their own, after a time.

She shook water from her coat as she returned, having taken one such excursion as an opportunity to hunt.  She'd ended up with a mid-sized bird and dropped the carcass before glancing around.  No doubt soon they'd be able to return... the rains wouldn't last forever, and perhaps the water had already receded.  

tags for reference!

Oftentimes he wondered, what more life would have in store for them. What more disasters would come their way, what more worries would plague them, and more. But Aningan could not bring himself to share these concerns, not with anyone but the uppik; she always understood and reasoned with the bear, offering insight that would otherwise be missed. She could share with him the words of the north, the teachings of his family, and he took their conversations to heart partially because of this.

The uppik was away—hunting, he presumed—and the young leader left to his own devices when he happened across Rosalyn. To his dismay, he could not recall when last they were able to share words, and thought to remedy that. With a low wag of his tail and a throaty chuff, he started towards her and said, “This place is a lot different from the shore but I think it’s growing on me.” Oddly enough, he almost felt at home there, where they were not so visible to outsiders.

Rosalyn was not quite ashamed to admit that, occasionally, she forgot that Aningan led here.  Thus, it always came as a surprise when he approached her.  Not because she disliked him... that wasn't true at all.  Wrapped up in her family as she had been, and in the Firebird child that Solaire had found, she hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd stepped down, and since she'd last spoken to him.

Funny.  That was... five, now?  Five birds she'd helped home.  Kitten, whose true name she no longer knew.  The two women, the child, and now Niamh's.

It's served us well, she agreed.  She didn't feel much affection for it, but as she'd found the other day when speaking with her wife, she couldn't find herself missing the other.  Do you prefer the forest to the shore?  She asked, with a bit more focus.  Not harsh, just less passive.  She had occasionally wondered what kept Aningan here, now that Caiaphas was gone.

The question presented was not so easily answered. He fell silent and pondered how best to respond, wondering silently which held his interest best. The shore would always hold a piece of his heart, as it was essentially where he was reborn after the glacier. But he could not deny that there was something intriguing about the forest, something he couldn’t quite place a name to.

Eventually, he shook his head.

“I think I still prefer the shore,” answered the bear. “I can’t imagine not returning to it.” Aningan could never abandon the ocean, not entirely; despite his former fear following the sea’s rage, he never stopped loving it. “Do you prefer it here?” he then asked, turning her question back. Truthfully, he never knew who valued what over something else—he only hoped everyone was content.

Rosalyn looked off, silent as Aningan answered.  It wasn't what she expected him to say.  From all that she'd experienced, the forest bred wolves who were soft... both in words and manners.  With few exceptions, Niamh standing out.  Aningan drew sharp contrast with the pirates of her younger years, and even those she'd met since.

I don't know, she replied finally.  I don't think I mind.  She felt that same touch of melancholy she had when Erzulie had spoken of it, though she hadn't voiced it then.  When had she lost her mooring?

What draws you to it?  Caiaphas had first brought him, she thought, had she not?  He hailed from elsewhere.

Choosing between the shore and the forest was an easy enough task. The difficulty of their conversation came when he was asked what drew him to the sea; it was not that he lacked an answer, no, but more so that he wondered how he might put it into words. Because what drew him to the shore initially was a factor no longer, the former head of the sea wolves long gone. But something still tethered him to the ocean, making it inescapable.

“Family,” was his answer, a simple word to start. “The shore is where I realised I had family. I guess that’s why I can’t stay away from it.” The sea gave him a new life, a family that actually stuck by him. In a way, he almost felt indebted to it, in place of Caiaphas, who first led him there.

Rosalyn was a creature of habit and mercurial in her views of others.  She saw in Aningan an aquaintance, so it surprised her in part when he spoke of family.  At knee jerk she wondered who he meant... but then she recalled who had sired Erzulie's children, her own children.  It was funny how quickly she could toss that aside.

She nodded, a little bemused by the realization.  The Pirate was set in her ways now; there were more important things than analyzing what endeared her to another soul.

Perhaps it was his quiet devotion, and his inability to ribe her the way others always had.  For whatever reason, she did not understand him.

Fair enough.  I can't argue, now that my reasons are the same.  I'd be happy anywhere they are, and they love it here.  Perhaps not here specifically, but the ocean.  They spoke on light things a while longer, and perhaps of an upcoming hunt to draw the pack together, before parting ways once more.