Ankyra Sound a shadow of the past

the overcast afternoon has quelled the seastorm that had riled the ocean earlier that morning; the waves calming as their rage abated. jetsam and flotsam wash upon the frothy shore; normal.

until, it wasn't.

an unusually large lump of seaweed washes upon the shore; hard to discern what was cradled in it's tangled grasp. a brown ear rises out of the tangled mess. isengard, more waterlogged than he was anything else, drew in small, shallow breaths.

he is unconscious; worse for wear from the unforgiving embrace of the sea.

but he is alive.

a man, a man she did not know, washed into the sound. back from the rise, chani had devoted herself as well to the search for astera and miette, and had been swimming not far off.
streaming water, chani had come back to the shore and then stiffened to see the large wolf, tangled so horribly into sea-debris that it took her to draw close before she could make sense of what she saw.
she called out for anyone of her family near, but it was their fearlessness that led the girl to approach, hackles risen as she sniffed toward a great paw, backing away swiftly.

there is a roar in his ears; partially the sea at his back, licking at back paws and ankles, and partially something else. something other, perhaps. his awareness is slow coming at first and then a rush. isengard takes a pained gasp of breath and then coughs up saltwater and seasludge, groggily aware of the young woman backing away from him.

w-wait ...— he croaks out the plea, mustering little more than a rasping whisper, head rising; thick seaweed sliding off his head and in a wet splat before him. this burst of strength is short lived before the weight of his own head is too heavy and it drops down so that his chin rested against the slimy seaweed pile there.

chani's jawline trembled in the stress of this. she chose to meet strangers, they did not wash up so close to her home. she could see he was chased with all manner of seaweed and kelp, and in her youthful mind she was quite concerned as to where he had come from, and if he was even real.
"what is your name?" she asked, not coming closer but not retreating. "you be close to sapphique, so," thinking of her mother's ferocity and her aunt's fire, "have a good reason, oui?"

isengard took another deep breath, lingering in the sharp pinprick of pain in his throat; rubbed raw from the saltwater unintentionally consumed. a small coughing fit precedes the tangy, bitter taste of salt that lingers in his mouth. but it is no longer his only concern, the hunger that gnaws at his painfully empty stomach. the desire to sate his thirst.

he is vulnerable. too vulnerable. he looks up at her; slough eyed. he is at her mercy. she holds all the power, all the cards.

he would wager that she knew it too, if her words that follow her initial question for his name are of any indication. to him, they are. is-isengard. he winces, swallows thickly but it does nothing to help him.

there is enough of him that lingers, a weak flame, that wants to point out he didn't know there was a pack nearby, didn't know where he was and that he hadn't chosen to wash ashore here.

but he doesn't.

he does not have the energy, and does not wish to upset the sylph that very well, unknowingly or otherwise, hold his life betwixt her jaws. ...di-didn't know. isengard struggles to speak, swallowing thickly after each word. haloisi, he breathes. the sea, he translates. there was a storm...

isengard told a halting story of a storm and the sea, and chani looked toward the sky in knowingness. "she gives an' she takes," the girl murmured, echoing her mother, who in turn had gotten it from grandmaman erzulie. rosalyn and erzulie. 
she didn't allow herself to daydream; she fixed the man with an attempt at her mother's cool eye and nodded. chacal might be suspicious, but not cruel. stuffing the word haloisi into a proverbial back pocket, chani at last began to yank drowned foliage from where it was tangled into his coat.

she gives and she takes.

if isengard would've had the energy to, he might've let out a small noise of agreement. as he doesn't, he lets out a small breath instead. a pale, weak shadow of himself, at the moment.

he is surprised, albeit relieved when she begins to detangle him from the seaweed. he shrugs out when it is loose enough, pulling himself out on his belly.

it, unfortunately, expels most of the energy he'd managed to gather since his awakening. still, his senses are coming back to him; slowly.

your ...sa-sapphique — he begins, a question forming as to how far but then remembers that she had said he was near it, before. he can't smell borders ... but then again isengard can't smell much at the present moment. he sighs, letting the question go in place of another. will they help me? if i offer my services in return? for he does not expect help for free.

at last he was cleared of the debris, and chani pulled away again, calling for @Chacal, though she knew one of her aunts would come as well, more than likely. "i do not know," she chimed, "dat be up to my family."
her tone held a little doubt, however; the only other man in sapphique not related to her was svalinn, and even he had some sort of connection to their beloved @Val.
this one was a complete stranger. but the ocean had spat him out here. so perhaps it was meant to be.

her answer isn't concrete; not a yes, not a no ... but it is as good as he's going to get. he supposes, if they choose not to help him there would be little to do. he would make it, either way. still, help now was a far better option then help later.

th- another painful swallow; a rough breath. ank you.

with little to do other than wait for someone else to arrive, he tries to conserve as much energy as he can, though something about the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide, the roar of the sea brings with it the temptation of slumber that he fights.

The pack had split into small groups, roving off in search of the two missing girls in spells. Chacal sent her eldest daughter on a search with Maleah, knowing they kept good company, and stayed behind to mind the borders. Winter approached- and with it came a slough of travelers looking for somewhere to bunker down for the season. She had seen it time and time again, and it did not surprise her to see a stranger there, with her daughter who had voiced the summons.

Both wolves were wet, a detail that Chacal found hard to miss- though she got the general impression that the sea had perhaps been more welcoming of her daughter's presence. The stranger looked physically fit, but exhausted. The tangle of kelp and seaweed lying all around him gave her more clues, and she regarded him with the look her daughter had mustered earlier; even and cool.

She passed her jaw over the top of her daughter's head, uttering an affectionate rumble, her tone a mix of something fond for her daughter, but territorial all the same.

She could feel the disappearing pressure in her sinuses from the storm that had likely chased him toward the shore. He was fortunate to have survived, if he had been out far enough to become tangled in that much seaweed.

'The sea gives an' she takes.'

She'd not heard her daughter speak the words, but heard them in a tone in the back of her mind that caused her to soften her gaze for a moment. She fought back the urge to ask why a man had been their gift, but it was a question she could answer easily enough herself.

"Chani Erzulie, daughter mine-
who is dis, dat be brought up from de brine?"

She asked, prompting an explanation from her own flesh and blood, so she might see what had happened from eyes belonging to a wolf she loved and trusted.

chani erzulie! maman only used her full name for these moments, and each time brought with it a mingled love and longing to know the grandmother for whom she had been named. "de sea spat him up!" she exclaimed exuberantly, though she did not grin and prance.
this time.
she showed her mother how the man had washed up, tangled in kelp. by this time he was standing of his own accord, and she stepped back.
he would not stay, and she assumed it was embarrassment. the man hitched off down the beach and chani turned to her mother with a shrug, frisking at her side when it was suggested they return to their cliffs and a seabird hunt!