Wheeling Gull Isle You are my anchor, so steady me, steady me now

also tagging @Saint @Accipitra @Hierophant @Anathema ! <3

The driftwood creaks under the strain of the children and the wear of the wood across the sand.

When he was certain Reverie and Lestan had left him, he had set about to clear the children from the wood and had cleaned up the surface of their cradle the best he could. If there had been any berries left, he had discarded of them the same way he had destroyed the rest, pounding them into the dirt and scuffing dust across them so no one could eat of them again. Already, two showed signs of their ingestion, and his heart wept for them, but he was no healer, and there was very little he could do.

He would help them as they grew. He would teach them how to know what was real and what was not, if the delusions lingered like the ones that still scarred him from the Gilded Sea.

Everett sought to soothe the children as he pushed them down the shoreline by singing sweet hymns he'd heard from Heda, the same she would sing to her children as she spun the love of God about them. He let his soft voice drift over the pups and prayed that God might use his words and the sound of his song to lull them with some semblance of peace.

He sang for them, and for himself also. His heart was in disarray. He could only think of Reverie and Lestan and how they fell and were falling still. As he pulled himself further from the confrontation by the river, the more he worried for Lestan. Lestan, more than Reverie. Although she looked like herself, something had changed in her, and now she spoke like a mad woman. There was no freedom in the way she clung to her husband. Only chains that he did not think Lestan had imposed.

Everett quieted as he reached the shoreline. He kept the driftwood well enough away that he could catch any of the children if they tried to crawl into the sea. The landbridge lay under the waves, but he knew in time, it would show itself again.

Be at peace, little ones, he said softly to the children. Oh, what would Heda even say? He had worried about that too.

With a tip of his head, Everett called for her: @Heda first, and @Caracal too. He hoped Manea was near and might watch the children. This was not a light decision, and he wanted the new parents to hear and make their choice together.

His howl rang out over briny sea, and now, Everett let it be. He turned to the children, who were filthy with sand and seawater, and set down to groom them, one by one and speaking softly to them, as he waited for the parents to arrive.

can be a cameo! i don't want to hold anything up! <3

there is confusion.

unfamiliarity.

not so much in sights, for the sight does not improve in saint's blind, milkspun silver eye. and hadn't had much time to improve in their good eye ...

but in smells.

all was unfamiliar. not milkmother.

and the sickeningly sweet scent of the berries! it turned their stomach and they refused to eat. anything. sweet mothersmilk is what they craved.

saint lets their anger known in sharp cries of rejection, of disapproval, of maddening rage as they are carted 'round, torn from the familiar scent of mother and suffering the cleanse of tongue.

they are filthy, desperate in their need of a bathe but they rage against this, too.

When Everett called for his wife, then Caracal, the young father said to her, You go. I’ll keep an eye on them. More loudly, he said to their foursome, Who’s ready to play freeze tag? Tag, you’re it! and tapped the nearest one, hoping to keep them busy and entertained while their mother dealt with whatever was happening on the island’s shore.

Cameo, unless he is needed. :)

hope y'all don't mind me throwing little dinah into this! i thought it'd be fun

Daddy offered a game of tag, but Dinah's sense of smell got better day by day. And she wasn't stupid! She could smell them; new scents, new faces. The sharp cries of newborns, that which she did not understand. 
Gaze cast toward the oceanside where the echoes of the cries were coming from, her lower lip turns downward into a pout. Who is that? she bluntly questions her father, pushing past her brothers to take a few steps towards where the sound and smell came from. I wanna meet em.

her days were filled with the questions of her daughter, the play of simeon, the coaxing of judah, the wrestling with malakai.
her days were good and golden, all that heda had known her lord would give her without asking. there were so many reasons to thank god, and each evening she found another.
the worshipper by the sea fairly glowed, having replaced the lost weight. all traces of fever too were gone, and she walked each day with the children, naming things, pointing our the bloom of new flowers or the winging of a gull.
this hour everett called for heda. she nodded at caracal, kissed his cheek and the downy heads of the nearest children, and set off, for the fragrances carried on the briny air touched her maternal instinct.
she came to find him with four dirtied infants, hardly alive long enough from their newborn stage. 
her golden eyes widened, and then a shy blush climbed her cheeks, for the very sight of these little ones was enough to announce her milk in visible pearling droplets.
but heda did not focus on her brief embarrassment; she set her mind to joining everett at his cleansing, and before long she had pulled each pup from the long piece of wood and settled them at her belly, checking each one for malaise, disease.
an earthen cub shimmering in odd olive tones. a darkling one beside. a child of black and white, and another already showing red hues.
was she a fool for loving them already?
two of them acted oddly, and heda looked up in sharp worry at everett. "where is their mother?" she asked beseechingly, her gilded eyes searching his own.

the berries had found his quickening mind and showed him things he was too early to understand.

GOD worked through everett to save him from the black. the man was no healer but his song was a balm.

pulled from his rocking cradle and baptized by heda's cool tongue, for the first time in the boy's short life he felt love wash over him.

<33
also, if any other pups from either litter still want to join in please feel free! <3

Heda came through the waves to meet him, and she neared without a word, yet her eyes spoke love. She carried with her the warmth of her presence and the scent of new milk. Everett's heart sighed and unravelled. Relieved. He had been so afraid she would be angry - but what had he to fear? She glowed with the glory of their Creator's love.

Despite the clear surprise on her face, Heda drew up alongside him and settled down in the sand to help him bathe the children. He set his mind on those who had eaten the berries, and though he could not sing as he cleaned, he continued to hum as he washed over the dark little girl and the patchworked boy. He had no names for them, no frame of reference for who they were or who they might be, if they would bring joy or grief to the island, but he knew their whole lives were in God's hands.

And in his heart, he prayed over each.

That the Lord bless them, and keep them,
     and make His face shine upon them.
That He would preserve them, and give them life,
     and fill their hearts with His great comfort,

through the love he and Heda sought to give.

When they were finally bathed and dried and set against Heda to nurse, she turned to him with the question he had long prepared himself for, but he found his words slow coming. Her voice was not accusing, but worried, and he wondered how much to share. Did he speak truth to her, or pull wool over her eyes? Must she know where they came from? Could they leave that in the past? Sorrow lined eyes as he met her worried face, and for a long moment, he let her gaze search him.

Their mother does not want them, he finally began, voice quieted so as to not stir or worry the children. They had already been through enough. He drew in a deep breath. And then,

I found my sister by the river that leads to the sea. Her husband had gone looking for a witch he believes had cursed her, and she -- well, my sister, she's not in her right mind. She was feverish, afraid he had left her. Before I could talk her down, her husband came, dragging berries, and the driftwood with these children all onboard. I accused him of stealing them -- I truly thought he did -- but he said the witch gave him these things -- berries to see spirits, and her children to raise. I don't know why - but I saw his eyes, and he was speaking true. I destroyed the berries, and covered them with dust, but two of the children had already eaten them. And the children -- he took them, but - but he did not want them! He would leave them to die, or leave my sister to die, and either way, there was no way --

Everett felt his composure start to break. He closed his eyes and drew another slow breath. Rainwater met gold again. Am I wrong, Heda? To bring these children here? Perhaps they were born in darkness -- but so was I. If God can save me, why not these? If I was wrong, you must tell me, he could not shake the final look Lestan had cast them, as Everett had crouched there with the little ones all around, and I will bring them somewhere else.

does not want them was a concept quite foreign to heda. she stroked each little baby head, ruffling the small ears with her breath as everett explained what an ordeal they had gone through.
sisters. husbands. witches. sickness.
quietly the sweetharbor woman reached for his paw, curling her own around his for a moment of support. "you were right to bring them here, everett," she assured with a long exhale. "if — if evil has touched them, the only cleansing for that is the love of god." that was why he had been there at that moment; it was why he had been compelled to bring them here.
heda's sungold eyes lifted once more to the man at her side. "your sister? is she all right?" now concern lanced her tones and she very much wished that the woman was with them now. 
contemplatively heda touched each of the four infants in turn. "berries to see spirits," the young mother repeated, shaking her head in dismay. "we'll get them to the den, and i just won't be leaving them alone for the day. maybe caracal has an idea of how to make them vomit or something."
yet even as heda spoke, she knew it was too late for that. "he can stay with the children, while manea and vesper help us carry them to the greenhills." the wolf did not yet stir, wanting the poor beleaguered babes to have their fill of milk before they were moved yet again. but after that last trek into the viridian grass beneath the summer-eye of the sun, sweetharbor would envelop them with its peace.
"when we know they'll all be okay, maybe you should name them, everett," heda suggested, at last straightening, feeling their small mouths release her flesh in sleepiness, she hoped, and she called for the two other island wolves mentioned once before.

Caracal very rarely unleashed his stern voice on his kids, though when Dinah disregarded him and began walking in her mother’s wake, he said, Dinah, get back here, in a tone that brooked no argument. If it’s safe, your mother will call for us, he added more gently.

Heda did just that only moments later. Caracal stood pensively for a moment, looking at his sons and daughter. They were old enough to stay at the den by themselves without supervision, though it still made him a little uneasy.

I would ask that you stay here, close to the den, he said to the four, but if anyone insists on coming with me, they’ll need to walk quietly beside me. No running ahead. No asking a zillion questions, Caracal laid out his terms whilst looking pointedly at his beloved Dinah.

He set off then, toward the beach where first Everett and then Heda had called. Caracal had no idea what was happening but would never have guessed he would walk up on the two of them tending to an entire litter of newborn pups.

Caracal froze, staring, his mouth a moue. Were these Everett’s pups? Where was their mother? Heda smelled of sweet milk and he knew she must have nursed them. Swallowing thickly, he moved to take a closer look, wondering if they needed medical care. Could he provide it, if they did? He wasn’t a medic any longer…

It didn’t take a genius to see Everett and Heda meant to help these poor, innocent babies. And of course Caracal would help them render aid. But he felt a cold stone in the pit of his belly. He wasn’t sure he could go through this again, not so soon. He had just started enjoying parenthood and now God was really going to test him.

just one post for me here to get this in my thread log. please skip and feel free to PP going forward <3

accipitra was magnetized by everett’s eyes and followed them darkly, though her body never moved.

his eyes streamed in the air like two firemetal discs — leaving cosmic trails of interstellar dusk in their wake.

two fat, globulous moons hung in a suspension of eternal dark.

unaware of the passing time accipitra was transported from driftwood to earth, then bathed by a spate of strange tongues. almost as if she were born anew.

there were scents in the air she did not know, but she was too tired to parse from them their signals. all she knew was the scent of milk, which she pursued doggedly despite the burning in her stomach.

she fell asleep besides her siblings, unaware of the serious tone of the adults or the growing audience besides her.