Stavanger Bay when it’s just you and me and the english channel

Short post just to get the ball rolling. Thread order will likely end up Szymon » @Chusi » Coelacanth » @Doe?

Adjusting his pace to make sure Chusi and the Sea’s Liaison were comfortably in tow, Szymon skirted around the bay territory to approach the border nearest Chateau Dozzle. Tipping back his head, he howled quietly for his Chosen One, golden eyes closing as he allowed the pelagic breeze to carry his call. In it, he poured all of his love and longing for her, but a lilt of urgency touched his undulating bass timbre as well. He was excited to see the gift the Sea had intended him to find. Still, he dared not enter the lands without the flop-eared witch doctor’s blessing.

“This is m-my h-h-home,” Szymon announced solemnly, his bass timbre striking a note of pride as he breathed deeply of the salty air and turned to regard the Vessel. She, too, seemed to be enjoying the brine — her finely-sculpted head was tilted back, her oceanic eyes blissfully closed as the summer breeze tousled her damp, cuttlefish ink fur. Fierce joy that the bay territory had met with this female’s approval caused Szymon’s scarred lips to twitch into a grin; he leaned down to Chusi and reached out tentatively, seeking to touch his nose very gently against one soot-colored paw. “Have you ever b-b-been to v-visit the S-S-Sea, Chusi?” he questioned.

With a happy puppy-bounce to her step did she follow, looking back to see if Darky was still following every now and then. The thoughts of Aggie and Zephyr were soon lost, especially as she looked upon the coast and how the wind played with SneezeMoms' hair. Ocher orbs flashed from object to object, the sunlight bouncing off her eyes to reveal Garnet-like colors of gem sparkles inside them. This was fun! This was what adventure was! Sneezemom and Darky were nice, this place was nice, EVERYTHING was nice! If only mother could see her now- happy and smiling; and all it took was a little adventure and fantasy. 

When they stopped, the smell of something stopping them, she looked up at SneezeMom. He was howling- she knew, and lifted her own tiny head in the air to let out a song of her own; mimicking that of her male friend. She grinned proudly when they were done, ears twitching to hear if anyone returned their song or if SneezeMom would say anything else. 

It's a lovely place! So bright and butterfly! She squeaked, butterfly her own word for beautiful since she admired the flying creatures. She smiled up to Darky too, hoping she liked it here. When SneezeMom lowered his nose to touch her, she giggled. Yeah, the sea likes me! It gave me a hug- but Zephyr didn't want me to hug her. She rambled with big eyes. 

Phone post. Please excuse the brevity.

Chusi's exuberance was infectious, and Coelacanth needed little urging to feel happy and excited at the prospect of seeing Atoll again. Still, as the little foundling's piping cry added sharp staccato notes of punctuation to Szymon's long and loving howl, an unbidden memory rose: Crosscurrent's last love song to Seelie's sheepdog mother. She and Amoxtli had gone through the motions, but their fully healed and wholly ruined throats could sing no farewell of their own. A pang of loneliness, her life's one true constant, drummed through her veins -- but she distracted herself by turning her face into the salt-laden breeze and closing her eyes. Dipping her muzzle low, she sought to nibble with playful fondness at the very tip of Chusi's ear.

Major-league pp of Seelie. Let me know if I should change anything - for anyone.

The call of her mate was always a welcome one, whether or not it was meant for her. His voice was as beautiful as he was, and there were times when he howled that she felt she could truly see into his spirit.

Strong indeed. And his seed grew within her, the stirrings yet unnoticed but surer every day. Doe didn't know for certain that new life had quickened in her womb, but she certainly suspected. Her attachment to the pallid man only grew with these suspicions, and she felt nearer than ever to him and their inky girl. Life seemed perfect, despite the looming threat of the winter her children, if any, would be born into.

But she trusted in the man. And when he called her and bade her come, she came without question, ears merely quirking at the added voice of a child. She trusted him.

"Hail," she called when the three silhouettes came into view. Her pale mate and a darker child, certainly - she'd think it her own pack daughter if she'd not seen her just a moment before - and one other. One that looked rather familiar, even from this distance. "My Shadow!" she cried, recognizing the tufted ears and already knowing it could be no other. Doe leapt into a streaking run, her body bending and snapping in her zealous determination to more quickly reach her friend. The girl was dearer to her than any other - perhaps more than the pack daughter she'd just left.

The reunion was swift and joyous - Doe barrelled toward her friend but pulled her punch at the last second, so that their bodies met with a soft whumph rather than a violent wack! After this - and a brief exchange of happy whines and affectionate nibbles - Doe hopped back to her feet and shook herself off, her attention turning first to Szymon, on whom she bestowed a more reserved greeting that involved a cursory inspection of his person and two swift licks - one to his handsome face and one to an equally favored part of his body - and then, finally, to the dark child between them.

"Ai!" she cried at once, backing several steps away from the child that was not her pack daughter - but who certainly looked similar. Doe was aware that she often confused wolves with each other, but of this she was sure: The child now before her bore a striking resemblence to Quill. "Where did you get th - her?" she wondered aloud, attempting to calm herself even as she stared warily at the mirror-twin of her own daughter. Doppelganger - the word echoed darkly in her mind; but it was an old wives' tale. Nothing she should have to worry about here!

Her attention was soon stolen by the sea, the white foam even visible from here, and she let out a long, happy sigh. Whoever they had called was taking their time, it felt like, but Chusi had more stuff to worry about. The shadow loomed over her in surprise, taking one of her ears in a playful manner. She let out a surprised, taking a moment to let her eyes grow bug before giggling. Silly things, they were; her friends. But who was she to judge? She was not very normal herself. If she had been a normal child- she would still be with Sen. Live a happy life in the forest they had found. But no- instead she had been "stolen" by Zephyr and brought to the coast with Aggie where she now had found 3 more friends!

Make that 3. As the gray woman approached, she almost didn't look like whatever they were at all. Big ears fancied the top of her head, her belly a sandy color and eyes a lively yellow. Oooooho.... She let out in amazement. She didn't know what "hail" meant, but she had no time to ask as the gray lady approached Darky. Shadow? 's that your name, Darky? She asked carefully and soft when the "hail" woman approached Sneezemoms next. 

She watched with big eyes as the lady in gray fled from her presence, tilting her head to one side with a raised eyebrow. Her white throat was visible. She wondered why she didn't tickle her, or why she was not given a hug and kiss. Sure, they hadn't met yet, but she was Chusi! Everyone so far had been kind to her. Little did she know her biological sister was here too. She was too young to notice the slip of her tongue, maybe feeling offended if she had been just a little more mature. Sneezemoms, why's the lady in gray scared? Somethin' on my face? She asked, presenting all sides of her head to her male friend. 

Quick posts to get all of my threadlogs up to date. ♥ I am sorry for the lack of quality and length.

Chusi’s agreeable nature was a refreshing change from the huddled flaccidness of Sharkbait, but Szymon could not compare either cub to his own pack daughter. There was something special about Qilaq that tugged at him specifically — a different sort of ownership perhaps engendered by the haphazard way he’d come to call her his own. Still, he couldn’t deny that being exposed to so many puppies lately had changed something in his psychological and emotional makeup. “Z-Z-Zephyr was wrong to s-s-stop you,” he said quietly to the ochre-eyed girl, finding in her words a renewed sense of prophecy and urgency. “The Sea will t-t-take you, but She will g-give you b-b-back.” He felt Chusi’s safe return was a certainty, just as Qilaq’s was. Thinking of his grey-eyed daughter pulled some of the tension and urgency from him — and Doe was prompt, her reception of the trio a whirlwind of emotion that caused Szymon’s heart to flip-flop oddly.

Her first greeting was for the Vessel of the Sea; and that, Szymon felt, was fitting. Confusion flitted across his visage as she named the girl — “my Shadow!” she cried, barreling toward the waiflike creature in a maelstrom of whining ecstasy. Perhaps she was not a legendary creature of the Sea, but that did not lessen his feeling that he’d met her — and Chusi — for a reason. “Oh, Doe,” he groan-sighed, his guttural bass timbre filled with fondness and something else entirely as her scent filled his nostrils and her tongue darted across his cheek — and then across something else entirely that caused his body — and something else entirely — to stiffen as though he’d been jabbed with a hot poker. Abruptly he sat down, so hard the whump of his haunches was audible. He had expected her to be happy at the child he’d brought home — Grayday of Silvertip Mountain had said she might be impressed with cubs, and she’d been so happy to take Qilaq home — and when her reception of Chusi was wary and mildly distrustful he cocked his head to the side in Coelacanth-like bewilderment.

“The Sea led me to her,” he said simply, telling her of the sea lion sacrifice he’d made — unaware of the look of horror on the sheepdog cross’ face — and his journey to find Chusi. His stutter all but disappeared in Doe’s presence, but was slightly more pronounced than when they were completely alone: “The lady in g-g-gray is my mate,” he said, emphasis borne of his pride and affection placed on that final, fateful word. “She is w-wary,” he explained. “‘Wary’ means you are c-careful about your words and actions. And she is s-s-surprised. You look like our d-daughter.” He looked up at Doe to see whether she could weigh in further on the situation.

The elation of seeing Atoll again eclipsed all things. Coelacanth whined impatiently, an airy, toneless whisper of sound, her catlike forepaws dancing and shifting as her hindquarters sashayed and shimmied. Her torso wriggled like an eel, spilling into the wild lashing of her ink-feathered tail as she “barked” — she tossed her finely-sculpted head and spun a few circles, reluctant to cross into claimed territory without explicit permission — and when the odd-eared siren of Tara was finally within touching range, Seelie swarmed over her with a flurry of nibbles and licks, her tapered nose finding the base of her friend’s upright ear to place a soft kiss there. The scent of the older female’s waning heat yet lingered, and as the reunited friends rose and untangled themselves from one another, Atoll’s Shadow cast a perceptive glance from Atoll to Szymon and back again. The sheepdog cross’ cheeks grew warm as she curled her waiflike frame into a demure sit, regarding Atoll’s unease with slightly more understanding than her mate, if only due to that telltale scent.

Turning to Chusi, Coelacanth hesitated only briefly before decisively shaking her head — the innocent question was not one that could be answered simply. “Shadow” was Atoll’s name for the little Groenendael, but it was not her first name. She had learned to answer to others out of necessity, as had Amoxtli and their mother. The woman in the cabin had been especially unoriginal: Selkie had been “Girl”, Seelie had been “Little Girl”, and Amoxtli had been “Son”. In this way, Seelie hoped Chusi would continue to call her by the name she had chosen — she wasn’t fond of repeats. There was no way for her to convey this, though, aside from being stubborn about what she chose to answer to — and she would never do that to this small, ochre-eyed foundling. Bending her head, Seelie nibbled lightly at Chusi’s nape in an attempt to reassure her.

She didn't; not truly. Although something about the young pup had immediately made her think of Quill, there were very striking differences between them. There really wasn't a way to mistake them for each other. Doe put it down to a trick of the light and offered the young girl a smile. Putting herself down on the child's level, she cocked her head and gazed intently at the strange youth her mate had brought to her. Doubt of her husband's words never crossed her heart; if he said that the Sea had led him, then Doe believed him. She could not, however, believe that the girl was meant to dwell with them here.

"Hello, angelfish," she said to the child, speaking gently this time. "Will you tell me your name? Mine is Doe."

She seemed a strong and boisterous girl - around the same age as Quill, though this one seemed larger and sturdier than her own child. Her liking for the little one grew, but the fact did not make her any more comfortable with allowing the foundling to remain in their land. Her love for Quill was absolute, and the presence of a bigger, stronger cub would lessen her chances at both survival and coming into her own. Doe hoped that the introduction of her own brood into the mix would give her found daughter a chance to grow into a stronger wolf. Playing the big sister had certainly helped Doe to gain her precocious nature, even if remaining small while the others grew had taken some of that away.

No, there was no way the girl could stay at Blackrock. Maybe she could visit, but Doe would not allow her daughter to be the smaller child on a daily basis. To Donnelaith, then, she thought, remembering a story from her youth. Her own mother, Hind, had been given into Riverbone's pack as a young girl. The alpha of her home pack had done so out of respect for Riverbone's father, who had been the alpha at that time. Perhaps such a gift could salvage the Depth's relationship with the woodland pack.

Zephyr was trying to help... He thought she would hurt me. The sea was nice though, she'd never do such a thingy- would she? Chusi questioned SneezeMoms softly. She had panicked when the sea had took her, but who knows what would've happened if Zephyr and Aggie hadn't jumped in? If it was what SneezeMoms was saying, she would've been placed back on solid ground by her. Chusi decided she would test it whenever she had the chance. I guess I have nothing to fear then. She sighed- relieved the sea was a safe place. It was way more safe than near Sen, her Monster Mother. She was growing more and more fond of the salty liquid that made up their beautiful sea.

Swiveling her head to Darky, she was surprised to sea the tuffed one shake her head. Why had SneezeMoms mate called Darky not by her real name? Only then did she realize that Darky had not talked once- that means she could've not said anything to the gray lady as well. Darky's name was a mystery for everyone- yet for Chusi it would forever be Darky. Darky then- a name just for you from me. She giggled.

She scampered a step back as the lady in gray spoke to her, head swiveling to Doe. What a short yet interesting name- quite fitting for her appearance, Chusi found. Just like Chusi was perfect for her. Yet, now she thought of it, her name did not have a meaning. It was just there to let others address her properly, not symbolic at all. I'm Chusi, nice to meet ya. She said with a small smile. 

My work week is about to start, which is going to slow down my response time significantly. Do you guys want to just fade this with everyone heading to the Den Night? If you’re cool with that, this’ll be the last post for me and you can both round out your characters’ responses and archive this! ^^ If not, feel free to poke at me on Slack. I am also just going to powerplay Coelacanth in this post, because she is mine, my own, my p r e c i o u s s s s s .

For the most part, Szymon was content to observe the three unlikely companions in silence — but Chusi’s question gave him pause. “The Sea,” he told her truthfully, “takes what She w-w-will. You should be w-wary and r-respectful of Her, b-b-but not afraid of Her. Do you understand?” The Cairn children had never feared the Sea; what they felt for Her was a deep respect and occasionally a harrowing need. He turned his attention then to the Vessel of the Sea — who was apparently not actually a Vessel of the Sea — and regarded her with auriferous eyes that glinted with hard scrutiny. She appeared to be an odd hybridization of lynx and wolf, if her tufted ears and tiny size were any indication — and she was watching him with bright, limpid eyes that hinted at the bioluminescent plankton that swarmed the bay’s shores from time to time. It reminded him that he wanted to make a gift of the plankton for his girls — namely, Doe and Qilaq — but he was swiftly brought back to the present when the odd creature shrank back from his musing stare.

He wondered at her silence and her namelessness — and correctly surmised that the latter was a direct result of the former. “N-Names are s-special,” he ventured, adding her without qualm or question to the list of Important Creatures to Protect. If she was important to Doe, she was important to Szymon simply by association — and that meant he, too, would have to think up an original name for the strange wolf. “H-How do you keep t-t-track?” he muttered without expecting an answer. It was his instinct to call her simply “Vessel” — after all, that was what he thought of her. Yet upon its utterance — “V-Vessel?” — she wrinkled her nose in sheer rejection. Tattered ears fanned out to the sides of his skull as he settled on a word that was near enough and oddly fitting: “V-Vesper,” he said. “the evening s-star.” This, at least, seemed to meet with her finicky approval — the typical Cairn grumpiness kicked in and muttered cruel things about beggers and choosers even as she touched the tip of her nose to the sand and flicked it over his paws in an odd show of gratitude.

It occurred to him then that Skellige would not be pleased at the prospect of adding another cub to their ranks — not with Qilaq being so new and Larkspur the Deserter causing both the witch queen and the sea king to be mauled by a bear.