Dragoncrest Cliffs manmi

Bracken shoots from the soil where Erzulie lays; the hemlocks hug her forevermore. Coraline sits tall at her side, eyes reddened and cheeks damp.
She isn't quite sure how long she's been sitting here. An hour or so, perhaps; not that it mattered. Not that it would ever be enough.
She hadn't been there. She hadn't been able to stop what happened to her family; her cliffs, her brother, her mothers. She remembers fondly the soft proclaimation of Mireille that she had not been blamed. But even still, the feeling slams her throat, stifles her breathing — guilt.
And what was the purpose of it all? Her own pettiness, her selfish resentment? There was nowhere for such anguish to go now. All that remains is the clump of dirt, the graves now coated with the beginnings of sea-earth taking back what it gave.
And she weeps again.

With the advent of autumn came the shortening of days, and Chacal felt herself begin to adjust for winter. Her coat had begun to come in, spurred on by the frost which had begun to bead even the bark of the sequoias in the morning. Up in their highest reaches, they glistened almost blue before the sun warmed them, and melted it away.

Another winter would come, and after it, another Spring- something to look forward to, she supposed, though the passage of time made her heart clench as well. Knowing that with each year there would be more who would not recall the faces of her mothers, only the stories told about them.

In the hallowed place, she found Coraline. It pained her to visit the area, in part because it was where so much blood had been spilled and the entire area brought memories of the horror back to the Tanzanite. It was not an appropriate burial-place, but there had been no other option. Chacal remembered the scent of the dried poisons that they had drenched their pelts with; they had both run into battle knowing that they would be buried wherever it was that they fell.

She was not sure if Coraline would accept her company while she grieved, so she lurked for a moment, wondering what, if anything, she could say to ease her sister's suffering.

A sound from behind her snaps her briefly from her tears, a soft blink as her head turns. Chacal appears like a shadowsilk wisp, and instinctively Coraline reaches out a paw for her.
There are no words exchanged, for a while, before her breath trembles and a whisper crawls from her tongue. I'm sorry, Chacal, her head dips to press against her chest. dat I was not here. Dat I ever left.
For now, she paid the ultimate price.
She extends nimble arms in the offer of an embrace, and again does she fall wordless, sinking into the chasm of grief as it strikes another blow.

She could feel the emotion building, but would sit quiet and strong against it, until it at last broke them both down. She had never been immune to the pull of tears once shed by another that she loved, and the moment she heard a hitch in Coraline's breath, she felt a tightness grow in her own throat, a choking lump of grief that never truly dissipated. She pulled her sister toward her, resting her jaw atop Coraline's head as she felt tears spill down her cheeks.

"No, no," She said in a hushed lullaby. There was nothing for her to forgive- she had learned a sort of love that could span miles, ever bright and never fading with time. Her family would always be welcomed no matter how far and long they had roamed, and she had no grudge to hold for those who left when they returned home like faithful driftwood.

It would take her some time to remember her voice, in the wake of a few choking sobs that kept her silent.

"I am glad I did not lose you too." She confessed. After all, there was truly no telling what might have happened differently had Coraline been present for the battle. "But I am so, so sorry you did not get to say adieu." Her sister had been robbed of the opportunity to see her mothers one last time, though she hoped that in being spared those memories, she might not know what it was like to have seen them. Erzulie, valiant and beautiful in the heat of battle- only to choke and froth and seize in the throes of the poison she had ingested. Rosalyn once fierce, lose the memories of those she had loved, only to chase ghosts no one else could see.

She could remember her mothers in other ways, of course- but sometimes, the most vivid memories she had were those which hurt the most.

Wet heat blooms across the top of her head. Chacal, too, had lost her mothers, her brother; Chacal, too, knew this despair.
Was it for the better, that she had not been there to witness it? To see the scarlet entrails of her brother, the rivulet of foam from her mother's jaws? To watch the other's light fade until her own daughter was nothing but a fizzling memory?
Tell me dey did not suffer, Coraline rasps; dat it was not painful. the churn of her stomach, the bitterness that swallowed her heart knew the truth, and yet she chooses not to accept it as her nails find the skin beneath Chacal's fur and gently press against it, as if Chacal, too, would be swept away.

She clenched her jaws together, lifting her head slightly so perhaps Coraline might not feel the tension against her temple. She closed her eyes and pictured her mothers, struggling to imagine them the way they had been when she'd been young and they had been healthy and happy. What Coraline asked for was not a plea for the truth, but for reassurance.

Cruelly, her memory brought visions of Erzulie's face, muddy and bloodied, jaws crusted with filmy spittle. It brought an image of Rosalyn staring off toward Ankyra Sound, stern, cold and unyielding. She did not want to lie to her sister, but she would not for one moment fathom a day when she would ever share with her sister the true visions that danced in her mind.

"Erzulie an' I fought side by side,
while Mireille took de children out toward de tide.
Maman- she filled herself wid poison inside,
dere be no pain for 'er- not when she died.
She went- she fought, and never lost 'er pride."

As macabre as it had been, she did not doubt for an instant that Erzulie had felt little pain in the midst of her drug-fuelled fury.

"Rosalyn chased de bear away for miles,
an' lived, after Erzulie, for a little while.
She passed in her sleep...An' wid a smile."

It was the most peaceful answer she could offer for her sister, shielding her from the brutal details while offering her some form of truth as well. She hoped it might suffice to help Coraline accept the passing of her mothers, now that she knew more about how they had been in their final moments.

Maman Erzulie had chosen her own end; maman Rosalyn had waited until it was time. Coraline desperately searches for peace in that idea, in the hope that they are together somewhere, watching; waiting, too, to see their daughter again.
Did they know that she loved them?
An' Sobo? her brother, her littermate — oh, she could not bear it!
Coraline shifts away only momentarily to wretch and to heave, head hung close to her chest as the sobs morph into a cough that then simmer back down into weeps. It is my fault, it had to be, it had to have been.
For if she had been here, she could have dove in as one extra body, one extra set of teeth; she could have protected Erzulie and Sobo, could have eased the hellfire that ravaged Rosalyn, and yet of her own selfish accord she had driven herself away. Time was lost to her, to her mothers; it is all my fault.

Sobo...

There had been little left to his body when he had been found, and even less of his skull. Chacal wanted to think that the bear had been merciful- and that Sobo's death had been quick. She knew enough of what battle sites looked like to have gotten the impression that once Sobo had been caught, he had not struggled long before the bear killed him. And yet as much as it gave her some consolation, it felt horrifying still. Sobo might not have suffered long, but his last conscious moments had likely been filled with sheer terror.

"Sobo was de first to meet de demon on its way.
'Is life bought us time to send de children somewhere safe."

His sacrifice had not been in vain; he had at least halted the bear on its journey, and the alarm call went up as soon as he had been found. It had given Chacal time to send two of her children and other vulnerable members of the pack away, led by Mireille; someone who could show them the way to the island where they would be safe.

Her sister wretched. She gave her space, and lent her embrace once again, shushing her softly when she began to blame herself.

"It is not your fault. It is life, Coraline.
De sea gives an' she takes; it is as little your fault as it is mine.
I might 'ave sent you wid Mireille, anyway-
So we would not 'ave lost one more life on dat day."

She did not feel as though the outcome of the battle would have been any better if they had had one more wolf. The bear was a killer, and was willing to go up against however many wolves came at it- and it would have gravely injured just as many that charged toward it. Even if they had had ten more wolves, Chacal firmly believed that the bear would have persisted all the same- and it would have likely taken more lives, and spilled more blood before it left.

"Our mot'ers-" Her voice broke. She swallowed hard.
"Dey would want you to live.
Dey would want you to know, dere be not'ing to forgive."