Cerulean Cape she don’t got a lot to say but there’s something about her

Takes place the night of the Hunter’s Moon. For @Aditya ♥

The world seemed very loud to the selkie’s daughter in the wake of her impromptu — and overwhelming! — family reunion. Amoxtli’s renewed presence in her life, combined with the evanescent appearance of her favorite aunts and second favorite uncle, filled her with a curious mixture of elation and anxiety. Komodo was back, and Faeryn too — she could scarcely believe it! — and Catori was a married woman and a mother. There was so much to be happy about…

…so why was she sitting at the water’s edge, trembling in the reddish glow of the moon?

Tufted ears sat pertly atop her velveteen crown as she gazed across the water toward the island. Her cerulean eyes were filled with longing. Doe would have loved the Hunter’s Moon — and the Cortens would have loved Doe. In her mind’s eye, the tiny Shadow saw her sprightly, scrappy friend, dancing beneath a starlit, moonless sky as she presided over a similar tradition:

“Tonight is the dark of the moon. Where I was born, it was a time to be together under the stars — we would share stories, and song and dance. So — who will tell a story?”

“Who will remind us what it means to be a pack?”

What did it mean to be a pack? Why hadn’t the stormborn wolves stayed together in the first place? Coelacanth shifted her view from the island to her reflection in the water, but a flicker of light drew her attention almost immediately toward the sky. A bright shooting star with a brilliant blue glow and a trailing silver-limned tail seemed to arc over the island before disappearing into its center. The sheepdog bounded to all fours, forelegs half-steeped in the shallows, and made a wish.

he found her in the water, legs submerged, looking toward the dark line of the horizon. saw the comet, the twinkling streak of light, and her head rise to follow it. the blood moon bathed them all in crimson-gold light, set the blue-black of her pelt to smoldering embers, his to fire. most were away, engaged in their own business; he had left dawn for a while, to seek out the silken sea-witch alone.

aditya drew alongside coelacanth, his bold muzzle curving in a smile as he looked over at her. two figures, brawny and lithe, standing in the sea.

"i didn't know whether you were real," he told her in murmured tones, golden eyes lowered to meet hers. "for a long time, i thought it had all been a dream." he looked back out, toward the small isle from where he'd swam to get to where he was today. he believed very much in destiny, and knew he was in the right place; yet, a small part of him wondered what could have been if fate had tugged the other way.

"i looked for you, when i left," he whispered, his voice hesitant, apologetic. "i couldn't find you--and then i was sure it was a dream. yet here you are."

aditya turned back to her, enjoying the feeling of the salt sea against his ankles. it had been many moons since he had stood on the shore, and farther back still that he had done so with joy, rather than distress. how he had missed this!

"how are you, o chikni raat?" oh sleek night. fitting, for the young woman. dark and deep and gleaming as the sea under the vast night sky.

Unconsciously mimicking her dance from earlier, Coelacanth’s ears perked atop her head as the sibilant shift of the sand made Aditya’s imminent approach known to her. Without taking her eyes off the island’s silhouette, she drew nearer to the burnished wolf whose fur gleamed like the heart of the sun — and if he allowed such intimacy, would deign to press her tiny body against his and rub one silken cheek against the crook of his elbow. Only then did she angle her muzzle in such a way to look him in the eye, cerulean reaching tentatively for sungold, tufted ears fanning forward to eagerly capture each murmured syllable. Like Screech, he was a full-blooded wolf — but the girl’s affection for him was quieter, more self-assured. She was not worried about scaring him off.

She followed Aditya’s gaze out across the sea, toward the island where she’d found him, and a soft, sad whine tiptoed its way up through the hollow column of her throat and emerged from her lips as a yearning sigh. If she was being totally honest, he was one of the wolves she’d hoped would remain with Undersea — but she had seen the look in his eyes when he’d serenaded Dawn. She couldn’t help feeling as if she’d failed him somehow, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it, either. Not when he was so obviously happy. Not when he was a Corten. He was something like a cousin now, and cousins were practically brothers and sisters in Seelie’s experience.

Amoxtli was less sure of the new arrivals to the family, and on some level, Coelacanth fretted about that. At one time, her twin’s misgivings would have caused her to turn her back on the whole idea — but maybe their time apart had been good for her, despite the heartbreak it’d engendered. She thought her own thoughts now and wished her own wishes. Maybe her time apart from Aditya — for she did plan to return to the island, knowing it to be her destiny just as Dawn was Aditya’s — would also be a fruitful thing, but she didn’t like thinking about it. The Morningsiders were dear to her, and the thought of separating from Catori, even more so than Adi, was particularly painful.

For him, because he had heard her speak and because his name was easy enough, “Adi,” she breathed, hoping to convey through the two simple syllables and the touch of her muzzle against the nape of his neck that he didn’t need to apologize for a thing. That she was sorry. That she knew she had failed him. Her Neptune eyes, when they reached for him again, were guilty and sorrowful the way only a chastised dog’s can be. “How are you, o chikni raat?” he asked her, and her ears pressed searchingly forward as she cocked her head first to one side, then the other. It had been so long since anyone had given her a new name, and she smiled slowly, shyly, but the joy dawned in her shimmering eyes and set in motion the serpentine curve of her spine. “Sini — ?” she butchered in a bashful susurrus. “Sini…ra — ?” Lightly she bumped the bridge of her nose against his shoulder as though to urge him, “Again, please!” while her feathered plume began to wag in earnest.

she had little speech, or so he gathered from her whispered words. that was fine. language was more than speech: it was the way you carried yourself, the way you looked at a person, the history you had between each other. seelie had rescued him from the jaws of death; no matter what the language barrier was between them, the gap would always be bridged by the fact that he owed his life to this woman.

that was all that mattered, to him.

his skin felt warm as she touched him, and he resisted the urge to look away, suddenly bashful. he smiled as she repeated his words, giving her best approximation of the name he had given her. "chikni raat," he said again, his tongue strolling along every syllable, as graceful as her dance on the beach. "it means sleek night. for your pelt," adi explained, pressing his muzzle for a brief instant to her shoulder before retreating.

his chest felt tight for a moment, both with happiness and with guilt. joy at finding her again. . .and regret at not staying. he had made his choice, had swam the narrow channel to the mainland, and had found his mate. but this woman was making him feel the same sorts of things that dawn did, and, well. . .was this betrayal? were guilty thoughts guilty actions? or would it have to become reality, before he was damned?

he shook off the accusing monologue in his mind, instead focusing on the night, the celebration. "you have a big, wonderful family," aditya remarked, grinning. "it's something i always wanted, growing up. and--well, i guess we're related now!" he hadn't known catori was related to coelacanth, and the revelation had filled him with such pleasure he could burst.

Well, she would never be able to say it with such spiced familiarity, but her second attempt was slightly better: “Shikni raat.” She laughed soundlessly at herself; there was mirth in the curve of her lips and the sparkle of her eyes. The touch of his muzzle to her shoulder was a wonderous, treasured thing that reverberated along her flesh in a delicate ripple of tremors. “Adi!” she laughed delightedly, her voice no more than a tremulous breath shaped into the syllables of his name. “Thank you,” she thought at him fervently, bowing her head and making a sweeping gesture with her tapered muzzle, eyes dipping toward her right shoulder, then her left, as though snuggling into an especially luxurious cloak. She would wear the name he’d given her with pride and joy.

Tufted ears pressed forward upon her crown as he began to speak, a bright grin lighting up his handsome visage. She could not have been more enthralled by the compliment he gave, for flattery about her family drew her like a bee to honey. Seelie’s sweet tooth was incessant, and Aditya was one of the sweetest wolves she had ever met. Nodding encouragingly toward him, she danced a circle around him, pirouetting on nimble paws; her sprightly steps splashed him, but she was utterly unrepentant. The breeding season was nigh, and although Coelacanth herself had yet to experience the changes in her body that would signify fertility, she was giddy just being around Catori.

“I guess we’re related now!” Aditya told her, and to the sheepdog, this was as good an invitation to play as any. She darted in, nose outstretched in an attempt to boop! his shoulder, then cavorted several yards down the beach. There, she dropped into a playful bow, forelimbs splaying. It was a pose that only lasted milliseconds, though. Before she had time to register Aditya’s response — and indeed, perhaps before he had time to respond at all — she spastically dug a Seelie-sized swath in the sand and dove into it, hunkering down with her ears pressed flat against her head. A black button nose and two Neptune eyes peeked out over the shallow “wall” she’d cobbled together with frenetic pushes of her catlike paws. “Come get me!” crowed the plume of her tail.

her eyes danced with delight, and before he knew it, she was off like a shot, burying herself into the sand and surveying him keenly, in invitation. well, she didn't need to ask twice! wagging his tail, aditya dropped low, then pounced forward, racing toward her before drawing to a sudden halt, kicking up icy sand, his tongue lolling from his open jaws.

"bet you can't catch me," he teased, gaze glinting gold in the moonlight as he stared down at her. with no warning, he took off again, racing down the beach, looking back to see whether she'd followed. if she didn't, he'd return.

something about the air by the sea was restorative, even if the wind was just as cold--if not a bit colder--than the winter breezes on the plateau. he inhaled deeply the salt and brine, leaping a few times mid-run, barking with delight. his tail a banner behind him, his eyes twin lights in the darkness.

Every move Aditya made triggered an answering reaction from the sheepdog. She liked it best when he almost-scared her with quick, stuttering steps. It was exhilarating! Then, “Bet you can’t catch me,” he teased, and I mean, did he even know who he was talking to? Tufted ears popped like inky quest markers atop her head as if she hadn’t quite heard him right — “excuse me?” — and she took off like a shot, her long legs well accustomed to the rigors of sprinting across the sand.

A playful growl bubbled in her throat, most likely too low for him to hear unless she drew near enough to touch — she mirrored his glad leaps, hyperextending her sprightly musculature into a stunning grand jeté and following up with a few less strenuous jumps. Then, quite abruptly, she stopped — why was she doing all the chasing? — and “barked” back at him, a slightly more audible sound if only because of the click of her teeth that punctuated each one. It was probably still not within his hearing range, for she took two strides to his one and he covered a vast distance even in those few seconds — but the silence of her ceased steps would be loud enough.

Once Aditya took notice, Seelie backed away from him mischievously with her hindquarters tipped pertly above the slope of her shoulders, feathered tail flagging the air. Coyly now, she poked her tongue out at him with a saucy wink, then whipped around and took off running.

of course, seelie caught him up easily, and sailed ahead, a dart of black-blue. she eventually decreased her speed and barked back at him, coming to a halt and giving him a teasing look. then she was off again, begging for the chase. taken aback, he hesitated a few seconds before sprinting after her, chuckling under his breath.

there was no way he'd catch the swift coelacanth, especially with the head start she had gotten. but by god, he would try. his large paws kicked up sand as he galloped across the beach, heart pounding in exhilaration. this was life, and at its best--

"oof!" aditya, overly cocky in his own abilities and lost in his head, had tumbled over, somersaulting a few tail lengths and getting a nice, coarse mouthful of sand. spitting this out with a disgruntled pah!, adi rose gingerly to his feet, eyes narrowed in embarrassment as he looked for coelacanth.

he did hope she hadn't seen that particularly graceful exercise.

Coelacanth, sprinting full bore in the opposite direction, hadn’t witnessed the fall itself; but her oversized ears swept hindward upon her skull at the muffled “oof!” and the ensuing tumble. Nimble paws skidded to a stop, deft as a cutting horse’s hooves as she pirouetted and rushed to Aditya’s side. He was still getting to his feet when Seelie began checking him over for wounds. Her quivering nose and lips swarmed his burly framework with overexuberant tenderness, nosing through his tawny, bourbon-neat pelt — she was winded and exhilarated from her run, and the scalloped gradient of her ribs fluttered while she caught her breath! — until finally she huffed out a breath that intimated her exam was complete. From what she could see, he was mostly unharmed.

The bashful minx then took matters into her own paws. Curling her haunches beneath her in a demure sit, she tested Aditya’s strength with an impish push of one round little paw. When he did not immediately fall over, she used both paws — and then she drew away completely, backing up like a very tiny mountain goat. Pawing at the sand with a snort, she lowered her head and “charged” him! — but the bump of her crown against his shoulder was soft and tentative, just in case he wasn’t altogether fond of this particular game. A kittenish “growl” purred from her throat.

Was he afraid yet? He really ought to be.

his heart thundered in his chest as her questing nose ran over his body, and an infinitesimal shiver ran through his skin at her touch. . .though he wasn't ticklish. she stepped back, and he gave her an awkward, lopsided smile, mouth tugging upward in one corner. "i'm okay," he assured her, his voice sparkling with suppressed laughter. "it's my pride that's hurt."

the laughter burst through like water from a dam as she tried to push him over, first with her dainty paws, then with a butt to her head. the burly man wasn't going anywhere, and he thought for a second of feigning a topple, but decided against it. you placated children, not beautiful women.

his lips drew back in a half-grin, half-snarl, and he growled softly back at her, eyes flashing as his body bent in a play bow. with a wag of his tail, he lunged forward as if to bowl her over--and stopped abruptly, instead lifting a paw to boop her snoot tap her lightly on the snout before giving her a reciprocal nudge to her shoulder with his head.

Once she was assured of his wellbeing, Coelacanth laughed with Aditya. Slim jaws parted and velveteen flews drew upward in a shy smile, tufted ears folding and oceanbright eyes arching in an unmistakable expression of pure joy. The flash of his fangs gave her pause, but the kneejerk reaction of fear was so fleeting and so swiftly overwritten by love for him that it was gone, quite literally, in the blink of an eye. Her own muzzle wrinkled playfully, revealing a mouthful of scythelike cutlery, and she “barked” wildly as he lunged forward; a soft snort of alarm plumed from her curving mouth and quivering nose in a crystalline plume. More kitten than canid, she bounced from side to side, snapping harmlessly at him as she erratically sidestepped and backpedaled.

The quick boop of his cool, leathery paw dappled her aphotic fur with motes of silver sand; it made her sneeze! She tossed the sand from her nose with a second airy snort, flinging up her head like a spirited filly, but when he gently nudged her shoulder it elicited an entirely different reaction.

Coelacanth melted at his touch, stretching out on the sand like a swath of blue-black silk. Languidly, she rolled onto her back with her feathered tail swept up against her abdomen and her forepaws tucked neatly against the arch of her rib cage. “Adi,” she wheedled in a shy susurrus, rolling to lay on her side and stretching out a paw to him with beseeching eyes. She searched for the words, trying to figure out how to shape what she wanted into speech. It was so frustrating, sometimes! She knew what she wanted and would have understood immediately if someone had intimated such desires to her, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out how to say it.

“Snow?” she attempted, but the furrow of her brow said she wasn’t pleased with it. It took a few more false starts before she came close to what she wanted: “S-Soft?” Neptune eyes darkened as she looked inward, twin storms in Charybdis’ waters. “Adi here,” she explained, patting the sand beside her, “I soft — small, soft touch.” Parceling out each word carefully, she looked in embarrassment at the water, feeling very stupid and very small in the face of her impediment.

his name escaped her lips again, and he breathed a gentle sigh, looking down as she slid to the ground, more liquid than flesh and bone. a pool of dark, gleaming water. she beckoned him towards her in soft, fragmented sentiments, and aditya lowered himself slowly, laying next to her, his golden eyes finding her blues and lingering there for a long time.

his muzzle twisted in a smile that harbored regret in its corners. "seelie," he whispered, staring unabashedly at her long face. the stars above them twinkled, their light reflecting to dance in her pelt, tiny bright dapples against the black. the night was old, and the moon was beginning its descent beneath the horizon; the barest lightening of the sky to the east suggested dawn was near.

dawn was near. poetic, in a way that crippled him with fear. despite the sudden onslaught of existential terror, aditya remained still, watching her. hoping this night wouldn't end.

"come visit us," adi murmured, breath a warm mist on the cool night air. "we're moving north, all of us. somewhere with more space, less neighbors. come. i--we'd love to have you." he corrected himself abruptly, desire stronger and more abstract than any physical sensation pooling in his stomach. it hurt, bled like a wound. and he didn't quite know why.

Coelacanth was to some the embodiment of laughter and light, but deep down, she was a mere halfbreed — not a dog, not a wolf — with a debilitating speech impediment. She turned back to Aditya when he stretched out beside her, and met his eyes with not a little trepidation. Fortunately, he did not laugh at her ineptitude; in fact, he smiled, and in the corners of his lips was a soft stricture of pain that she felt keenly but did not understand. “Shikni raat,” she mirror-whispered. “Adi.” Tufted ears swept forward, and her elegantly drawn crown tipped in unabashed curiosity.

“Come visit us,” he murmured to her, and a flash of sadness surfaced in pools of cerulean before her lashes demurely dipped to hide it. She wasn’t happy to know that the group was moving — they were so close to her, which suited her perfectly. Still, Catori’s paws were made for moving, and she did want happiness for her Morningside family. She summoned a smile for the golden-eyed male and shoved aside her selfish obsession with keeping the family close, nodding exuberantly. Then she gave her own news to him: “Stockholm,” she whispered, her throat beginning to ache the more she spoke. “Faeryn, Modo, Ockli — ” Turning her muzzle askance, she issued a gentle cough.

“F-Family,” she breathed when she dared, and leaned forward to nuzzle the bridge of her elongated muzzle against the stern underside of his chin. “Undersea.” She hoped he would remember that name, though she couldn’t be sure if he would — he’d been in terrible shape the first time they’d met. She allowed herself to look past him, to focus her eyes on the island. So much could be said in one glance, and she wanted him to know where she and the others would be.

she spoke his tongue, and he smiled, filled with pride and joy to hear it fall from her mouth, even if it was the slightest bit off. "chikni raat," he echoed, his voice quiet, the barest breath in the cool night air. she began to list off names, names he'd heard at the hunter's moon but couldn't quite put faces to. that was fine, if he knew where she was going--

family. he smiled at that, giving her a nod. they were family, bound by marriage. it seemed so completely improbable that it would have happened so, that his rescuer would become family by mere circumstance. the right place, the right time. or had it all been fated?

undersea. here a shiver, icy-cold, rippled down his spine. the sleek woman had spoken this word to him before, in her halting sweet tones, in much different circumstances. where the claws of death still pulled at his every muscle, his sodden pelt dragging him into the abyss. he'd been half-dead, senseless, washed ashore on the isle just across the channel. undersea.

and she had saved him.

"thank you," he whispered, touching his nose gently to hers. he owed her his life, and for that he'd never be able to repay her. but he could love her. . .and perhaps that was enough.

Coelacanth rubbed her nose against Aditya’s in a playful kunik, then rose to her paws. In the distance, the silhouettes of their family members also began to rise and stretch as they prepared for the journey home, and although her eyes were sad, the little sheepdog smiled. Mimicking Aditya’s earlier invitation, albeit with botched pronunciation and a missing preposition, “Come fissit us Undersea. Come,” she whispered, gesturing with her muzzle at the island across the water. Her feathered tail whipped like a live wire as she splayed out her spindly forelimbs and flexed her toes, hips raised high; she walked the stretch forward, then shook the sand from her fur.

“Shall we?” bespoke the tilt of her finely-sculpted head as she trotted a few steps toward the gathering. She waited patiently for him to join her, then began wishing her family good night.