Dragoncrest Cliffs [m] there's no more searching for answers

Something sits at the tips of Maleah's paws.
Dried oleander, wilted and nearly crumbling; she is gentle with it as she sorts it from the rest of her herbs, for she knows the danger of such a game. The petals — or what remains of them — are a forlorn magenta, nature's warning sign not to swallow.
She gazes distantly out across the cliffside as the briny sea-air mingles with the natural scent of her fur, and she wonders just what to do with herself.

mah-leah, apprised miette with a tilt of her slim muzzle. what dat be?

held in maleah's paws was something dried, its petals faded and yet wafting a scent that was faintly unpleasant. while still miffed by maleah's intervention in her trespassing goals, in her incredible generosity and altruism, miette decided to forgive her.

glancing from the cliffside's rim back to the dark healer, her eyes widened in curiosity: are you gonna t'hrow it?

That familiar little chirpy voice sounds from behind her. Miette! While Maleah harbored no ill will from their previous... incident, she found herself admittedly surprised the same could be said for the darksprite. She had almost been certain she'd lost her little troublemaking friend.
This is oleander, she unfurls the petals before the girl, assuming she wished to creep closer and get a look. it's toxic to you and me. But I'm wondering just how much so, and if it could be broken up and used as medicine instead.
She never thought herself to be a mentor, and yet here she was.
Throw it? I mean, I guess I could, she barks out a small laugh. but why?

is toxic?miette’s eyes glinted like two coins, hungry. she glanced from maleah’s dark face to the crumpled flower, reading truth in the healer’s expression.

make no mistake, plump little miette could hold a grudge — and she had been peeved to have her justice stolen from her — but today, maleah redeemed herself by a single flower.

she would not forget the smell. don’ t’hrow it! miette suddenly called, having learned its importance. she wanted to hold it; to cup it between her paws and direct its malevolent energy in a direction of her choosing.

in short, she was enthralled. ’ow dat little flower ‘ave poison in it? an’ where you find it?

It makes your tummy hurt, the healer gives a swift nod. and it can hurt your heart, and make you so tired that you never wake up.
How did she always end up having to explain the most difficult of things to this child?
Decidedly, Miette no longer wanted her to chuck it over the cliffside, and Maleah was content with that. Instead, it seemed as though she found a fascination with it. It's poisonous because it produces compounds that can hurt us. Chemicals. They might help it survive, the plant, but because we are not walking plants, we react differently to those chemicals.
Maleah gingerly begins to pick the petals from the flower, crushing them beneath the weight of her paw; they disintegrate into tiny crumbs. I found it out past the lowlands, she says, honey-gold eyes narrowed now in an intense focus. I think I'm going to try mixing it with lavender, just a little tiny bit of it.

sobeille miette rivaini-dahomey, for the first time in her life, stood as a model pupil while maleah explained. she absorbed this knowledge breathlessly, a sponge sopping up every last morsel. 

turning to the flower, which now crumbled to dust between maleah’s paws, miette’s voice descended to a profound whisper. ’ow do you test it? what does lavender do?

she thought of the wispy girl in the woods; of the hummingbird; of the coyote friend who spoke and cried no more. she leaned forward in stifled excitement. can we feed it to someone?

Maleah almost felt as if she had found herself a pet. Miette hangs nosily over her shoulder as if she were rubbernecking a car crash, and it'd be a big fat lie if this enthusiasm did not excite her.
Lavender is a calming agent, she stands up briefly to mosey over to her own stash, concealed just out of sight in the earth beneath the shrubs. For her own safety, she ensures Miette cannot see where she goes. She reappears in a swift beat with a clump of the previously mentioned blooms; a preserved harvest from earlier in the season, hardened. it's good for when you can't sleep, or when you really need to calm down. I'm wondering if a tiny, tiiiiny bit of oleander mixed in can make for a stronger aid.
This part she allows Miette to watch. Masterfully, she strips the petals from the stem with one long swipe of an extended claw. We can, yes, in theory, an inquisitive look is shot to the girl as the question rings in her ears. but not until I test it.

miette was very still, an anomaly for a child that had not once stopped composing havoc since the moment she was born. her eyes were wide with interest, and she craned her neck bodily as maleah turned away — but to little use, for the healer wisely obscured the location of her cache.

impatiently, miette waited. she wondered who her first choice of a test subject would be. when maleah reappeared with a faded but aromatic clutch of lavender, miette had already decided.

her eyes narrowed as she realized what maleah had implied. ’ow you gonna test it? are you gonna eat it? miette realized this came with a risk — and that risk excited her. but you said it is toxic! if you eat it and it kills you, who gonna be the bossy lady in saffique? tousaint?

Maleah swiftly began to realize the dangers of teaching the art of toxicology to a child. The devilish blaze is alight behind Miette's eyes, and she fears it may grow beyond her control if she does not backpedal. You're right, yes, it could hurt me or even kill me, she barks out a chuckle. but it's my job to test it so if something bad happens, no one else gets hurt. including her, this chaos-embodiment of a child.
With great tact, she separates what looks to be a tiny spoonful of crumbs from each of her two plants — one part oleander, two parts lavender. To others, it appears to be hardly anything; but for a woman of her puny size and stature, this was more than enough for someone not in the midst of active hysteria. It would not kill her, this rather pitiful amount of her concoction, but it would surely be enough to anger her intestines should it go awry.
She laps at it with a careful dab of her tongue, bitter spreading with calm floral notes, and she swallows. Your job, since you're here, she points a tapered darknight paw to the chest of her little lab-tech. is to go get ma-man if I start to feel sick in the next couple hours. We'll both know. Got it?

miette listened in fascination as maleah explained her craft, artfully dissecting morsel from crumb, and crunching beads of lavender into the tincture.

so many questions sprung to mind. why cant we practice on someone we don’ like? she gasped, an idea springing to mind. what about de trespassah? but, it was of little utility — for maleah had already drawn her plans, and instructed miette to keep an eye on her.

little sprite that she was, miette’s eyes widened. all manner of unspeakable ideas came to her. what if maleah fell asleep in the manner of her coyote friend? what would her eyes look like dead?

okay. she finally agreed, watchful for the first sign maleah had made a terrible mistake.

It would take time, she thought, for the effects to take hold. She supposed now was the time to keep little Miette on her toes. Well, honey-gold eyes shimmer darkly, and her tone grows mischievous — though a long-buried stone of hatred lies buried deep within. if I can figure out what the limits are for helping people, that means I can also figure out what it would take to hurt people we don't like.
As far as she was aware, Sapphique had no true enemies; but a lifetime of surrounding yourself with bloodlust makes one paranoid. Maleah was not a fighter, could not defend herself easily; what other choice did she have, if it came to such a circumstance?
What she did know was medicine. She knew herbalism, and she knew that too much of a good thing — or even a little of a bad thing — could spell the end.
The bitterness rests in the back of her throat. She swallows again. Stop staring at me like that. I'll be fine, I think. she knew what she was doing, so she thought, but the nervous stare of impending doom that came from over her shoulder was beginning to make her second guess herself.

who don't you like? miette pressed, having sensed a kernel of something hard edging maleah's eyes. in those pupils she saw an ugliness reflected back -- an ugliness she was all too acquainted with.

instructed to stop staring, miette cast her gaze around them. down towards the cliffs, the long wings of a great seabird angled with the wind. she pushed a pebble idly towards the drop.

if you don't make it, can i have your skull?

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: wolf drugs LOL

A few people. But most of them are gone now, Maleah soothes, figuring that perhaps Miette was concerned with potential enemies; trespassahs. and besides, they don't know about Sapphique.
At least she hoped not.
Numbness had slowly begun to scrape at her. Her eyelids grow droopy much sooner than she had anticipated, and her paws are weighted to the ground. Oh, no. She's getting high in front of a fucking child. This was not what she had expected. Drowsiness, yes; nausea, definitely; but this?
Um, she forces her eyes to squeeze shut and open again in a blink before the godforsaken uncontrollable giggles begin to erupt from her chest. Be normal. I'm not gonna die, Miette. Don't be silly.
Unless this was the beginning of the end.

while miette’s gaze was upon the seabird, her true attention was fixated on maleah. what would happen, now that she’d ingested the strange powder? would she die?

maleah burst into a fit of giggles. miette found herself listening to each breath, wondering after the woman's vagueness and her past.

miette liked maleah, so she felt conflicted feeling the dash of her hopes upon learning her friend wouldn't croak. on the one hand she took a shining to the healer. on the other, it excited miette to think of maleah's skull perfectly sat next to the boneflower in astera’s midden.

maleah's eyes drooped in the manner of a frog. miette felt the burn of interest. what does it feel like?

Miette was beginning to sound as if she was in a tunnel. She was not in a tunnel. Were they in a tunnel? She needed water.
Um, hold that thought, Maleah wobbles up to her feet, subsequently stumbles, and resolves to crawl on elbows and knees to the edge of the Glintwater. The trees feel as if they may bend and crash upon her spine as her tongue desperately laps for hydration that would not soon flourish.
This was fine.
After a time, she reappears from between the sequoias, a defeated, lopsided grin tracing the dark mouth. Now that I've had time to think, she grumbles. I-I think I'd describe it as-- um, like, floating, maybe. On a cloud. A really warm cloud. And-- a sputtering cough, and then another incredulous, sloppy laugh. has anyone ever told you you've got kinda weird feet?

her gaze lifted as maleah rose. the nightcloaked healer was here right next to miette, but her eyes looked glazed and far away.

she dutifully followed as maleah stumbled to glintwater.

sitting along the bank, miette splashed at the water for what felt a long time; would maleah ever stop drinking?

but finally, she rose. miette lagged behind her, studying the shaky quality of her limbs. a kernel of knowledge was stored that day; how much she’d eaten, and how long it took for malady to set in.

a spluttering laugh followed a fitful cough. maleah sounded strange; her voice had a quality to it miette had never heard before. prompted to look at her feet, miette scoffed. my feet ain’t weird! she peered down at each toe, brows furrowed. mebbe it’s your face dat’s weird.

My face isn't weirddddd! Maleah squawks out indignantly. Yerrrr just mean. Or maybe I'm mean, haha.
Feeling now that her skull was more like a giant paper-weight and she could no longer be assed to hold it up, she shrivels into a crescent moon shape and tucks her forepaws between her thighs. Y'wanna know who I hate, Miette, baby? Lemme tell you a little story.
She did not wait for an answer.
I used to know this, this, um, this woman. Big, biiiiig scary lady. Kinda mean. She made us live in a pppphhhfffuckin', swamp, for a while. And, y'know, I-- she-- my family was full of a lot of bad people. Scary people. And she made me feel safe, at first. Like I could-- be more than what my dad wanted me to be.
But, y'know, the longer I stayed there, or-- after I left, the more time I spent away, the more I realized... I had just, walked myself right back into the same environment I grew up with. Lots of, y'know, violence, people always after her head. I was a pawn, to her. To tend her soldiers when they were done, like, terrorizing people. I was so blind to it! And I remember when she died, how distraught everyone was, and how I-- I stayed friends, with some of her friends. But she was... a bad person. She hurt a lot of people. And then, I look back on it and I wonder if, if-- does my past with her make me a bad person? Do I deserve a good life here, in Sapphique? With people I'm starting to love?
She pauses only to take a shaky breath, blown out her nose in the way one would do with cigarette smoke. It scares me, y'know, the way I care about you. And your maman. And your siblings, and your aunts and uncles. I've never... had that. I've never let anyone close to me. I don't know how to, Miette, I-I mean, here I am, telling, like, my whooole life story to-- you. And I'm probbbbably not gonna remember it tomorrow.

this had taken an unexpected turn.

miette had never observed someone in an altered state of mind before.

she listened, mesmerized.

and learned from this little encounter that people could be pried open like clam shells; their soft underpinnings exposed with a little help from a flower!

but maleah's past was terribly sad. miette's brow furrowed, wondering about this bad woman and how she'd caused a network of grief by living the only life she knew.

maybe this is how loa were born.

maleah's body curled in on itself. miette patted the flat of her arm. why you give dat lady any of your energy? she be gone n' ded. mebbe she be a loa, but you don't gotta think of her no more. saffique is your home, not dat lady and her bad juju.

last from me <333 tysm for the thread as always these two are a BLAST

you're right.
and she was, she was right! why should she waste her time thinking of them, of her? she was dead. everyone else she had known was gone.
and maybe it was better that way.
but as maleah let out a sound that could have formed syllables, her eyelids began to sag, and she could no longer fight the drowsiness that cradled her.
she would wake as the night began to stretch through sapphique with only a vague memory of miette's beady eyes, and a decision that perhaps this concoction needed more work.