Ankyra Sound jòn

Her name is Grackle. Like de bird? her lips twist into a velveteen smirk.
Grackle asks again where she lives, and a starlight twinkle brushes across her gaze. Sapphique. De seacliffs to de east, she gestures with a tilt of her nose to the east. it be a place of women. My mot'ers left it to my sisters.
Her mothers. A pang runs through her chest, up into her ribs; her mothers. What would they think of her now, having come to reclaim their land as hers again?
The seafoam eyes return to the pretty stranger, the hard sting of grief hidden behind the soft curl of dark lashes. Dere will be ot'er hares, bel tifi. Do you be needin' food? Otherwise, why would she be here? A pause, and then another question: Or a home?