Dragoncrest Cliffs benediksyon

sobeille had recovered. things settled back into their lulling routine, and mireille gazed not out to sea, but inland.
there was game to be had and to hunt, experiences the younger wolves should have if they were to know both earth and sea.
yet there was a reluctance in her to send them out, to leave the sands over which they had long presided.

maman, sobeille found mireille with her gaze turned inland, eyes seemingly solemn. a momentary confusion eclipsed her features, for the sea was a far better vista — what reason did she have to peer inward?

what you be lookin’ at?

"maybe de future," mireille answered with a cryptic grin. "how much you be knowin' about how to hunt out t'ere?" 
out there, away from the sea. away from sapphique. was there worth to learning such things?

the future. if anything was more revered and to be protected at all costs besides the past, it was their future — sapphique’s future. she longed to see from mireille’s unclouded eyes what that landscape might be.

a lil’. small stuff, like de ground squirrels and such. sobeille had largely gone hungry most of her trip inland, save for the grace of those she visited. maman, what you t’ink de future be lookin’ like?

"hm." mireille sidestepped, brushing sobeille with a flick of her tail. "i t'ink it be important for us to know all t'ings. all way of huntin'. de sea gives. but so many of us have gone to explore dat it be best to bring new knowledge."
after all, how might sapphique be suffused with vitality each year if they only cultivated what they knew? her smile rested on the girl who was woman now. "de future of t'ese cliffs is usually decided by children, miette," she said lightly, for she did not know her daughter's intention in this matter.

mireille’s tail brushed past her face as she tilted slender legs away. sobeille followed mutely.

her maman proposed something sobeille had always believed in her heart, but never formed into words. this world had so many facets. so many edges. it was important to know every part of them.

she knew now it was her Understanding of the world that would be carried on as her legacy. her name might die in the annals of history, but what she learned and passed onto her daughters would be their genetic blessing; a gift to ensure the future of every far reaching descendant.

maman, sobeille breathed in again, thinking how best to word the question that burned against her tongue. when you decided to have children — those children who now held the future in their teeth — ’ow did you know which man to select?

"i did not choose one man," mireille revealed with a glinting grin. "when your time comes, it is heat, in all of you. i was compelled to go; it is de only t'ing which has ever drawn me so fiercely from sapphique."
was it a lie that she told? twice she had chosen val. a third time she would, if the lwa willed it. and yet those endless days of bright fevered freedom; how could she even try to explain to sobeille what the young woman must only experience?
"i went out an' when men came to find me, i tested dem. one for strength. one for worshipfulness. ot'ers for pleasure. more for kindness. and t'en i drove dem away." remembering it reminded mireille that there were yet many years ahead of her for such. "it is our way to choose one. or choose many. as many as you wish. it doesnae matter in de end, for here mot'ers be whole." each woman had the aid of all sapphique.
"are you nervous, miette? or do you not wish to go?"

sobeille could not mask the apprehensive widening of her eyes to learn there were many suitors; the prospect of being in her maman’s stead caused her tongue feel leaden.

it was not that she did not find men unattractive. there were times she saw the muscular twitch of svalinn’s body or the lithe, waiting power of arrluk and admired it. and yet, she could not conjure lust for them.

to allow them to change her body filled her with disquiet and contempt. she would prefer to procreate like the crab or the fish; external and without her own body suffering.

i am not nervous, sobeille huffed, struggling now to comprise a workable explanation. i — there were many things she wished. housing these thoughts was one thing, but speaking her longing aloud was to put her neck at the mercy of her peers. what if i only want daughters?

"t'ere be no way to change dat," mireille murmured, "unless you did away wid your sons." no small pain as she said it, no small dread. but they spoke of the secrets between women.
yet mireille could not condemn a boy child to die. "de men born here an' de ones loyal to us, dey teach de ot'er boys how to be. raised in your name. in your image, cherie. dey carry us, not de o'ter way aroun'."
heat chewed the mind; mireille wondered what sorts of changes her miette might amend when the pressure of that flame was upon her.

there be no way t’ change dat. her maman murmured, voice instilled with quiet thought. sobeille’s mind turned to how she might make her daughters a reality — would it be so much to ask for a clutch of girls, no boys?

she could not think of a single species that birthed only daughters. her fault was in her inexperience; parthogenesis had yet to infiltrate the divine order of wolves, and the unique fabric of genetic feminity ensuring the survival of some dozen female-dominated lizard species was unknown to sobeille.

would she just be able to pluck some of their generic code for her own! she sighed, examining each thought’s careful pathways.

she found she could not agree with her maman; the thought of being carried by val or jadou or svalinn irritated sobeille greatly. it was as if a thorn or some unpleasant gristle had lodged itself between her tooth and no amount of articulating her tongue could set it loose.

mmm. she sighed, deciding then a different course of discussion. i be t’inkin’ dat i be named after sobo; a crime to be named after a man! an’ mebbe, i be namin’ my children in dat fashion also. not sobo, but de others. maman — tell me every woman you be knowin’ we come from?