Dragoncrest Cliffs granny helped me take the wise route

thrashing shredded the peaceful waters of siren's bay into bloody foam and sand churned to murky clouds.
a male sea lion, young and filled with the confidence of youth, had come to his end just away from the flat stone where they had gained their visions; where chani perched now, far too close.
an orca tossed the sea lion, droplets of red catching the sunlight as they fell in pearlglow among the waves. the scene's power transfixed chani, and she found herself singing in eloquent dirge as life circled in its pattern just out of reach.

maman’s vile slug bile did its potent work. it had only been a few weeks, but sobeille’s sickness now seemed a lifetime ago. she wondered what it was that brought her to heel so suddenly, and shivered with quiet knowledge hid within herself.

a song more dirge-like than joyous broke over the crest of the waves. sobeille followed it until she saw chani, perched precariously close to the thudding of the sea below.

when sobeille followed her gaze, she gasped. dark shapes loomed under the churning water, and the insidious remnant of a merlot bloom stained the surface.

she wondered of the lives of orcas. many times she’d watched their hunts and strained to hear their mournful songs. she felt a kinship to them, and asked herself if they ever looked upon the world of the surface, and pitied the wolves that lived their lives there with no hope of ever tasting the unknowable beauty of the deep.

song faded over bloodied water, and chani felt her soul's inexorable bond pulsing there upon the sea.
what called her could not be denied. she belonged to the seacliffs and the foam-flecked waves; to the brinewind and the sharp scent of blackpine and sweet lichen mingling. she belonged to the saltflowers and the rain that fell to stir the sea; to the storms over her grandmothers' graves and to the lightning.
her song ran hoarse; she trembled, wanting strangely to join them both there in the water and witness the eternal wild for herself, taste the blood for her own.

chani’s song joined the inexorable chorus of the open sea. all of life was an orchestra; some minor chords, some major crescendos — each cell of life playing their part as they wove in and out of the ceaseless tapestry that comprised the living.

the orcas were out of sight now, but blood on the water still lingered. there was a savage beauty to the way the waves darkened and turned, their edges rimed in foamy pink.

the colors, the songs, and the dark shapes faded away. suddenly sobeille felt intensely lonely — though she did not know of the mutual ache straining from chani’s heart. this place was theirs, and they were made of this place — the belonging of it reverberated in their very soul.

sometimes i be t’inkin it would be fun to swim out dere an’ join dem. sobeille whispered, canting her mournful gaze chani’s way. but den i worry — what if dey t’ink i be a fish? we do not stop to t’ink about what we eat — what if dey are de same?

"what if we are alike in dat," chani whispered, deeply considerate of the scene before her as well as miette's soft words. "i want also to go wid dem." lifting one of her strong paws, she sighed. "but we cannot swim as dey do. so dey would not see us as alike dem."
an unfairness! to be so much of the sea, to taste its salt in her own blood, and yet be denied a fundamental existence beneath the waves.
an unfairness!
her eyes still upon the foam-flecked crimson, she spoke without turning her head; "do you believe t'ere be a way to become one of dem? or to die an' come back as one?"
saltwater transmutation; had their own grandmothers sought such magick or had they been content with the land?

sobeille sensed the longing, the unfairness, the injustice of a soul borne in a vessel altogether unsuitable for it.

for a while the waves crashed and the groan of stone and salt wind was all that was shared between them.

then she spoke: i don’ t’ink so. the fat seal that chased her off the black stacks came to mind. did he get reborn? what about bugs, and the fish and deer she ate to sustain her ever-hungering body. did their soul immutable find some other sphere in which to spread their golden light?

she thought of the girl on the beach, who saw worlds within worlds from an eye that must come from some other order; she saw connections where sobeille saw dead ends, a network’s stunning constellation where sobeille saw only single stars. some religions i t’ink believe dat. but i don’t. mebbe we came from dat, or our children’s children will become dem - but not us. we are stuck in de body we be born to.

another beat of waves slammed their fists across the stone they stood on. but sometimes i be lookin’ close at dem seals, and i t’ink mebbe once, we were one an’ de same a very long time ago. sobeille could not easily share how she knew this — it was in hours of carefully studying the impressive skull cayetano had given her — but it was also in other ways: watching the seals obsessively on the beach. observing their chaotic chatter. the way they rested, or reared their young. and ultimately — the same way they bleed a deep and visceral red, just like her.

long ago, had they come from the sea? had they swam these waters with the same feral intensity as a seal? chani found she enjoyed the idea, delighted further that her daughters might return to the salt in a way she was not able.
daughters.
when they had left the shoreline, it was sobeille who reminded her they were grown, able to go and do as they pleased. 
but now that they had come back to their natal land, she felt more aged and more young, at once, both. the same.
"are you goin' out in de springtime?" she asked, a grin lighting her eyes. "imagine if we could choose a seal man instead," came her jest, though it was only half-so.
"better den a wolf."
drifting. "suppose we fin' a man and share him." 
find one who could give them selkie daughters and loyal sons. his name was of no account.

she was still for a time, savoring the way the saltwind preened her fur. her thoughts adrift alongside chani’s — thinking of daughters too, but of a different nature.

if she could only shed this skin as they did in stories; slip into the silkstream garment of her cousins under the yellow lull of a gravid moon —

i plan to. sobeille answered, forging ahead of her wandering thoughts with the careful bite of a lower lip.

she did not mind sharing. it was more — ah, she thought of firemother.

if only there was some way she could reproduce in the fantastically unintimate manner of a fish! lay her eggs in a bundle of stones under the rush of riverwater, and have a male secrete his sperm over her clutch while she stood watch.

the biological word she was looking for was external insemination. the thought of a man inside her — changing her body in ways she could not — repulsed her.

we will see what man dat is, dat deserves us both. sobeille commented dryly, for truthfully her esteem in chani was high, and in herself possibly higher. what kind of man you be t’inking you like? she asked as she twirled a spiral pattern in the loose sand with a paw; her own mind did not turn to the pleasing musculature of a masculine figure.

instead, she thought of ajei.

many things skimmed the surface of her cousin's face, and chani found herself curiously analyzing each one of them.
for her, the thought of this act was vaguely intriguing but more repulsive than anything. when she thought of men, her mind brought val and etienne and lafayette to mind, safe men. ones she knew. and she thought of them in their proper roles, as steward and brother; there was no room in her mind for chani to consider other men, other things with men.
they were an amorphous concept in her world outside those trusted males.
"i do not t'ink i like men," she said with the clear confidence of one unawakened to desire. "i am not lookin' at women ei'ter. i suppose i would want a man who is quiet. demure. minds himself an' gives me a host of children. maman walks far, she says. t'ere be many men. but what would i do wid any of dem?"
chani wiped sand from determined paws. "i should fin' one now and fin' him again when it be time. dat way i have already made de choice."

taking in the spray of the sea and chani’s solemn observation, sobeille got the sense that perhaps she was being examined by her cousin. to be known did not bother sobeille — if anything, having someone to share the knowing with warmed a part of her heart often cold with disinterest — but it was best chani not peer too far in. there were parts and places of sobeille’s unknowable heart that not even sobeille dared to venture.

when chani first declared she didn’t have love for men, sobeille’s heart fluttered with kindred hope — yet that nascent hope died a fragile death seconds after, as chani stated women did not intrigue her either.

dat sounds like an imaginary man. sobeille teased. like her cousin she thought of the men of sapphique; safe. bland. altogether unattractive to sobeille. dere was dis one boy at de hunt last year, from de moonpacks. he seemed — dare she say it? she winced: nice. what sobeille liked, specifically, was that he seemed a tabula rasa; he was quiet and introspective, but not stupid. ’is name be @Matteo. but mebbe dere be other men too. de moonpacks probably have one or two our age — or are you t’inking you go further inland?

her turn to grin in knowingness, ears cupping to hear sobeille's assessment of her choices. matteo. moonpacks. "dey be too close," the girl decided, flicking a bit of shell across the sand toward her cousin's paw. "an' too much about — men an' women."
"i t'ink i will go fur'ter into the territories. i met two boys our age at dis hunt, from kvarsheim. sven and ujurak. dey are different; believe different t'ings, about gods an' goddesses an' de afterlife. dey have several afterlives, sven says."
chani shrugged. "maybe dem. dey seemed — respectful. d'eir goddess is Freya, he said. i could be wid a man who believed in a goddess," she smirked, a mischievous light whole upon her face.
"it means he will let me go."
maman and matant, herself, sobeille. there would be many children, she hoped, for it would be her own reason for straying from those shores.

too close? sobeille admired chani's sense of adventure, capturing the tumbling shell with a cat's abstract interest.

further inland - to a place known to sobeille only by word alone. she had heard of that place before, and raked each memory that came to the surface of her mind for its origin.

two boys. sobeille could not inspire interest in them, not yet -- but they worshipped a goddess, and that was intriguing in of itself. it had been a pain-point to sobeille to learn in her adult life that women bent their spine to men; that men were seen as the higher power in most cultures.

mebbe we go to dem, and also dis bear pack i know of. dey worship bears. treasonous -- sobeille knew it the moment it left her lips. and yet, a liason with her pack's harbringer of death -- maybe it was meant to be. maybe this was the red ribbon that tied their bloody fates together, and such union would produce creatures neither bear nor wolf.

something far more powerful. i be t'inkn', i give dem a test. we fight til first submit. i won't lie wit' a boy that can beat me. she had thought at length about this - and the way the boy reacted to being summarily dominated by a woman would speak of his character. but one t'ing. sobeille flicked the shell back to chani, her expression woefully serious. no short boys.

so! her cousin had also been searching for the same, it seemed. chani's face glowed with approval. boys who worshipped goddesses. men who worshipped bears. their initialized intentions were off to a singularly good start, in her opinion.
though — she was not sure how the lwa would tolerate bear worshippers.
was it not — was it not their role to mend what had been torn?
cradling her misgivings inside a heart which loved, a pearl to be palantir at another time, she grinned at sobeille. "no short boys? why? but i agree dey should fight you. i will make dem race me. if i cannot be caught, i cannot be won, non?"

i be short, chani. sobeille pointed out with restrained bemusement. i be wantin’ big daughters, fighters for our future. plus, de short ones always have de most to say.

she liked this contest then; one will fight, one will race — both rituals tied in physical prowess. sapphique’s daughters would be powerful, well-bred things — and who knows? maybe her’s and chani’s blood would mingle again one day; gold meeting sapphire to fashion a new amazonian leader that not even the likes of the nereids had ever seen.

sobeille liked this future image rather well. i t’ink dat is a wonderful idea. she indulged in a toothy grin. you will give dem much run for their money.

it was not something chani had ever noticed, and so she was taken aback, face telegraphing surprise, interest, amusement, and then knowingness.
it was indeed true; where she had grown into a more lanky build streamlined with muscle, sobeille had remained more diminutive, delicate-boned, though anyone with half a brain knew by now not to underestimate miette.
it was that fire which made her seem so much taller, chani decided. "only de bigges' stronges' men for you, den, sobeille. even if i see a handsome man, i will send him away if he be small. maybe i choose only de fastes' ones. big daughters wid speed like de orca."
her eyes burned. "an' de bear men? where?"