Wheeling Gull Isle vanyan sòlda

the land here was different than the darker islands of blackwater.
and yes. more had come. a relieved reunion with lilitu had reminded mireille she was exhausted. but not enough of them had returned to her. to them.
and so she did not sleep, growing angular and more fiery-edged the longer that the moments ticked by. 
in the sleeping lavender fields she wandered, legs heavy. aminthe had been tucked into bed and now mireille had nothing to do but walk the entire perimeter of the island until dayfall came again.
there was something briefly familiar about the scent that floated here and there. were she more aware, mireille might have more quickly recognized it as @Caracal, but for now she did not. she registered only that it was male, and admonished its very existence with a backward splay of her red ears as she went on.

Caracal wondered if Heda felt the disturbance in the island’s energy as he tucked a serendipitous catch—a scrawny weasel—into a sandpit among the trees below The Greenhills. As he tamped down the coarse grains, he frowned and looked out to the dark sea, pondering what he knew of their new arrivals and why they had come here, which wasn’t much.

But if some of Sapphique’s wolves were here, albeit temporarily, then perhaps his sister or grandmother were among them. He set out to search for Meerkat in particular, never mind the hour, his fleet red paws carrying him toward the dormant lavender field Heda liked so much.

Caracal stopped short at the sight of a silhouette moving through the fallow flowers. He squinted, snout raising into the air. Now his eyes widened as he caught the scent. Could it really be Mireille?

Minding what Erzulie had told him of the redhead, Caracal hesitated. If she already hated men and she was here on this island due to great duress, then perhaps he should leave her alone. But there was one quick thing he felt compelled to ask, moving slowly but deliberately toward her.

Hey, sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, Caracal said, but have you seen my sister? Meerkat? And then, of course, a second query occurred to him. And, well… are you okay? he added softly.

a weariness dredged from deep in mireille's marrow had smudged deeper hollows around her eyes, which glittered with a fine emerald fire as she turned wind-swept head to face the boy.
he did not want to bother her. and yet he did. 
but at the mention of meerkat, mireille's expression hardened. "your sister chose a man over de pack. i expect dat be where she is. i did not see him on de cliffs. but den i saw very little before i came here."
she had loved meerkat but there was no room for love now. the sea-woman dragged her gaze back to the sea, stance strong and somehow filled with the anticipation which had been her only comfort as of late.
"so you be caracal." mireille did not ask, only pulled his name from somewhere's memory. "meerkat be your sister. who be your da?"
pain in that, in knowing she had lost a father under all this too. the bear aside, the young obsidian's world had been thrashed to bits, starting with njord.

He had braced himself for her scorn, yet hearing it directed at his sister rather than than himself caught Caracal totally off guard. He gawked at her, completely lost for words as he tried to process what she’d said. Meerkat had chosen a man—her husband, Njord, presumably—over the pack? What did that mean? And where were their kids?

Caracal blinked dumbly at her question about his father. On one hand, he was pleased that Mireille was making conversation with him. On the other, what he hell was she saying to him? What did Reyes have to do with anything? And where were his sister and nephews?

Uhm, Reyes, he answered. Do you know where Stingray and Spearfish are? Caracal asked, too scatterbrained to catch his mistake.

"if i knew where anyone was, do you t'ink i'd be here?" mireille snapped, frustrated with caracal's inane, innocent prying. he had not seen the maulings and the way the gigantic animal had just lumbered up the cliffside.
he had not heard the roaring and shrieks.
he had not gone into a mad flight to evacuate.
"my sister went to fight. she sent me out wid her children an' de ot'ers. it all happened very fast. so now i am waiting. swordfish was not at de den when i went back for him. perhaps meerkat took him out."
she was the leader! she was supposed to care, and all she could think was that she had lost everyone in sapphique by now. "i have to go back," mireille mumbled, eyes burning as if she could dry the seawater and walk across the sand beneath until she reached the mainland. 
silent and enraged tears began to break over her face, running in hot rivulets. but she did not shudder nor sob, only steadily, implacably, stared toward the far shore, forgetting she had ever asked about his father but knowing reyes was her family.

Now her ire turned upon him in full force. Caracal shrank back half a step. He should go, perhaps find someone else who might know more about his family. Concern swirled in the pit of his stomach.

But Mireille wasn’t finished, her tone scathing as she speculated about Meerkat’s and Swordfish’s whereabouts. His lips pressed together and he prayed—yes, to Heda’s God—that his sister’s family was alright.

To her closing words, Caracal wasn’t sure what to say. Did she mean to go back now? He wanted to suggest she wait or, at the very least, tell her to be careful. But he was afraid to speak. And then Mireille began to weep.

His instinct was to offer comfort of some kind, yet just a moment ago, she’d been ranting at him. Caracal sensed that he should give her some privacy and retreat. Yet something glued his little red paws to the dried roots underfoot.

Is there anything I can do? he ventured after a considering pause.

mireille wanted to tell caracal yes, that he could fuck off.
but that felt too mean and too unnecessary on this oasis her friend had found. the words poured through her body with a stiffening wave, and then left the obsidian.
"if i told you i failed my pack, dat i failed sapphique, that i — cannae even imagine what we will be after dis — if i told you all dat, caracal," mireille murmured, still not looking at him, still with eyes fixed on the inexorable sea, "would you do me de grace of agreein', or would you tell me it wasnae my fault?"
her jawline was a ridge of iron. she had been sent to bring others here and so few had come.
mireille had lost them. and she had failed the others.

He was suddenly reminded of his last encounter with Fennec. Drawing on that experience, he simultaneously resigned himself to being dismissed with prejudice, while hovering just long enough in case Mireille had any parting requests for him.

Just like his eldest sister, she did. He listened, lips pressing together and mouth drawing into a moue. He had no idea what to say. Mireille heavily inferred he should just agree with her. Maybe that’s what she wanted him to do but what did she need to hear from him?

A bear attacked your home. Your sister sent you here with her kids and some others, Caracal said slowly, wondering where they were just now. Probably sleeping? It sounds like you did exactly what you needed to do, what you were told to do. Where exactly do you think you failed? he pressed gently.

for a long moment mireille did not look at caracal. and when she did, her expression was the stone of a temple giving way to the insistence of verdant and curling leaves. yet beneath that, beneath that — he might see that she was thinking, weighing his words like cool stones in the hand.
at last her shoulders relaxed; she glanced at the earth. "ti gason sòt," mireille mumbled swiftly beneath her breath. what did he know? yet her voice was lifting, somewhat, from raw salt to the shoreline of emotion, steadying. not yet warm but pulling from the ice.
the obsidian took a seat where she was, spine straight and regal as she faced toward the sea. "reyes be my bro'ter, not dat i ever met him." she wanted to move away from this deceptive cove of vulnerability onto the harder land of focusing elsewhere. "how long have you been away from home?"
val. loko. swordfish. stingray. quennell.
her eyes burned and she turned them back out over the waves.

Her reply made him think of his grandmother and her peculiar words. Caracal blinked, knowing a translation would never come unless he asked. And he didn’t think he dared.

The change of topic gave him a bit of whiplash, though the connection between her earlier question and this statement at least grounded him a little. It took him about ten seconds to realize what this meant: they were related. Though she had never met Reyes, they shared blood. Disappointment swept over him.

But his crush really had no place here, so he focused on her quiet question. Caracal gave it some thought even as he took a tentative step toward where she now sat, poised. He didn’t make himself comfortable, remaining on his feet, prepared to be sent away.

I’m home right now, he said, though he knew that wasn’t what she meant. I haven’t lived with my parents since I was pretty young. They broke up, then the pack did, but I was already traveling by then, because of the time Reyes had taken him to visit Sapphique, as a matter of fact.

But you, he said after a thoughtful pause, you still live where you were born, don’t you? Something occurred to Caracal and his stomach knotted for her. Until now, had you ever left?

home right now. here? with heda, and whatever odd god she served now? mireille looked him over with a gentle stare while he gave his brief explanation, and she was happy to have it so brief.
mireille gave no indication he would be chased away — yet. it was odd, to think of him as family. the obsidian wondered what sort of man he would be, caracal’s obvious thoughtfulness notwithstanding.
for a moment her spirits lifted, and in the next they freefell into a spiral. the tension returned to her face, her limbs; “yes,” mireille confirmed. “before now i didnae have a reason to leave.”
and did she have a reason to return?
mireille drew a long, low breath. “you mean to stay here, on de islan’?” moving on and forward, forever forward, away from the lurking shadows which hurt too badly.

He could see the effect the question had on her expression. Caracal quailed inwardly as she confirmed his suspicion, his stomach now sinking. Had he put his foot in his mouth, asking that? But she didn’t dismiss him. No, she asked him another question.

Yes, Caracal replied, thinking of the conversation with Erzulie again.

Was she here, sleeping somewhere on the island, or was she back at the cliffs, leading the stand against the bear? The answer was pretty obvious to anyone who knew her at all, even her grandson, who’d only met her the twice.

You’re close to Heda, aren’t you? he segued in the next breath. Me too. I’m staying here in part because of her, he shared, but also because of our shared love: this island itself.

caracal moved softly around their conversation. it disarmed mireille in a way she did not like, and she felt the stiffening along her back as hackles wished to rise.
but they did not. she forced herself to listen and to relax, nodding once. mireille offered caracal a wry look, a lift of her brow. "you be stayin' for heda? or for heda?" she asked pointedly, red ears finally touched with a humour and interest.
at least for now. "we been friends a long time."

For an entire ten seconds, he didn’t understand the distinction Mireille was trying to make. Then, oh. Caracal didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t necessarily want Mireille to think he was off the market because he still thought she was stupidly pretty. But, right, she was his relative! Damn it.

Same here, he said. I know you two are besties but she’s kind of my best friend too. And I think she deserves someone who can love her and commit to her. I definitely love her as a friend and…

He trailed off, not sure he should say much more. Could he see himself falling for Heda? Yes. But was he sure he could give her everything she deserved? No. Caracal didn’t trust himself just yet, so he refused to toy with Heda’s feelings, at least intentionally. Especially after what she’d been through with Bartholomew.

She’s too good for me, heh, Caracal concluded.

mireille's shoulders tensed as caracal went on, but by the end of it, she had allowed the tautness out once more.
"all women be too good for men," she said with a sniff, standing fluidly. mireille meant it, but the little curve at the edge of her mouth suggested that maybe caracal was not included in that number.
"i could eat," she said at last in a quieter voice, something like fight racing from her figure until she was only a tired girl, smeared with exhaustion and with feet aching a thousand ways. "heda be good, to let us stay."
and that was all she wished to utter on it.

He should probably take offense, though Caracal couldn’t really disagree for a number of reasons. He stayed silent, watching her movements, noting when the tension built up and then released.

Yeah, Heda’s probably one of the most selfless wolves I know, he agreed before offering in the next breath, I literally just buried a weasel I caught a little bit ago. I can go grab it for you.

fade? <3 i imagine she will be back when she finds out what happened w sapphique <3

mireille looked at caracal, the sea-wind of the island riffling through the fur along her shoulders.
"i will come wid you." she did not like the idea of being served or having things fetched for her, especially not from a man. even if he was related in a way she did not understand.
quietly, the red obsidian fell into step beside caracal.