Dragoncrest Cliffs Sundown in the Paris of the Prairies

While she wauted, a tempest brewed within her, subdued every now and again by the reassuring belief that her mothers would welcome her home. So often her siblings had left, and so pure had their concern been that surely, any forgiveness they had shown to her siblings they would show to her as well. Still- doubt curled up comfortably within her consciousness like a cat nestled in the glow of the fireside. 

The first to appear was the battle-worn Rosalyn, whose expression caused Chacal's doubts to rile and awaken, shaking her posture and crumpling her self-confidence. She had frozen, the word of her daughter's name seemingly a magic trick that caused her to stiffen. Chacal's breaths quickened, lips parted; silence was still her easiest companion. 

Like a breeze, Erzulie slipped past her mate and Chacal could only hope her touch might break the spell that kept Rosalyn at a distance. She did not rush forward to greet her daughter but Chacal was swept forward to close the gap between them as though ushered by a wave. Her tail fanned from side to side at her hocks as she bowed her head and pressed her shoulder against her mother's chest, squeezing her eyes shut as she nuzzled her nose deep into her brine-laced fur.