Wheeling Gull Isle one of my turns

@Reigi, backdated like last night

 

"Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man.
And night after night, we pretend it's all right
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more."

Maegi enjoyed the way the moonlight bounced off the water. The ocean was a shimmering, moving mass, dark and light all at once, so calm far away but cresting and crashing upon the beach with a kind of muted fury. For one who'd never seen the sea before a few days ago, it was a novel view.

The girl found some enjoyment, too, in sitting on the edge of the water, letting the waves tickle at her toes. Occasionally bits of sea-greenery would float by, and she'd catch them on her good forepaw, staring in mild interest for a while before letting them go with the next recession. The water, the waves, the night breeze, all of this served to anchor her to the world: she had nothing else left to do so.

"Oh, Mephala," she intoned, remembering the prayer Kove had taught her long ago--well, long ago to a girl--her voice small against the vastness of the ocean. "Mighty weaver of our destiny, receive our prayer. Have mercy on us, speak to us in our dreams—because we are your unworthy servants.”

It's a call to her, Kove had said. Would she come? She had not heard the dizzying voices of the daedra since Nikan had done her harm. Maegi felt as if they had abandoned her, scorned her for not returning to the forest after all of the various misdeeds she'd committed in her lifetime. Not following her brothers. Leaving with the speechless woman. Finding herself here, of all places.

Her young life had not been good. Absent mother, illicit father. A world that considered her a blight. War, death, turmoil. Loss and pain. Confusion. The one thing she'd clung to, above it all, was her legacy. The Melonii way. The gods of her grandmother and generations before her. And the dark woods, her home. She knew every twist, every turn; every voice from the trees and in the tunnels was familiar.

But here on the beach, there was none of that. No one on the island knew she was a Melonii--who among them knew even of the Meloniis? There were no dark woods, and the voices of the daedra had ceased to call to her, even in her dreams. She was alone.

And in the dreadful novel that was her young life, this comprised the worst chapter thus far.

"And I can feel one of my turns coming on.
I feel cold as a razor blade,
Tight as a tourniquet,
Dry as a funeral drum."

" I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you dance. "

Undersea's nightraven watched her ghostgirl from the shadows, surveying her companion with interest.  Where had she come from?  It had seemed to the mother that the white-furred child had simply materialized from the walls of the valley, and everyone had accepted her as their own.  Those were in the days when nobody told her anything anymore, after she had willingly stepped down from her (rightful) throne.

Why had she followed?  And would she too end up leaving the nameless woman's side?  

She took a step forward, then another.  Her gait was slow, halting.  M-mephaaala, she whispered, hoping not to draw the girl's intention.  She got the feeling that whatever she was doing was personal, sacred — surely she wouldn't want a stupid girl interrupting.

Perhaps any other whisper would have escaped her notice, especially with the waves so close, but she had not heard the name of her god from any other lips save her own since she had left the Woods. It brought her head wheeling about, shocked, to find the brown woman sitting there, having obviously parroted the beginning of her prayer.

It was the first word she'd heard the mother utter, and her ears canted forward in curiosity. "So you can talk," Maegi said, meaning no offense. She'd thought Relmyna would open up eventually, but it hadn't happened; it was a relief to finally hear something non-primal from this woman's mouth.

"What's your name?" she asked, tilting her head. She left the water and padded toward her acquaintance from the Valley, her three-beat gait leaving uneven pawsteps in the sand. She sat down, her long tail salt-crusted and bedraggled from the waves behind her. "Why did you leave the Valley? Where are your other children?"

There were three, originally--she'd seen them near the mouth of the den, from afar. It reminded her, suddenly, of the holes in her heart from her own brothers' absence in her life, and her stomach churned. Her gaze flitted downward.

But the ghostgirl did turn to her, and it was not long before she was being bombarded with questions that were almost fired too quick for her to process.  Her mouth opened and shut once, twice before a noise caught in the back of her throat.

To the first question, she simply gave a shake of her head.  No name.  To the second, Hurt me.  And to the third she would remain tight-lipped.  She wanted all of her babies to stay together, she had thought they would all be safe with Alexander, but now she wondered.  And she missed them.

She sighed, moving close to the broken girl as her demeanor shifted into something sorrowful, and she made to press her chin to the girl's crown.

Her answers did nothing but bring more questions to Maegi's mind, but before she could ask--hurt me? she wasn't sure what that really meant, but okay--the still-nameless woman approached, drawing close and resting her chin on the girl's head. She stiffened for a moment, unsure and unused to touch, but eventually relaxed, melting slightly into the embrace.

She was warm, and smelled like a mother should. Much like Relmyna, or the faint whiffs she'd caught of Potema, laced as it was with the smell of poppy seeds. But it had never been this immediate, this intimate, and she swallowed a surprise sob, feeling choked. She pressed her cheek against the woman's chest, the heartbeat thumping strong and steady against her face.

Maybe it was okay that the woman couldn't talk. Words hurt. Words hurt worse than wounds. The pain Nikan had dealt her was indescribable, but paled in comparison to the parting shot Euron had hurled at her as he'd left the forest. But here she was, offering nothing but a gentle touch, a whispered couple of words.

What Maegi didn't know was that she was broken, too. She didn't know, yet, that maybe they could help each other heal.

It seemed as if her words would not be enough to placate the girl until she burst into a sob, and the sandstone woman's ears perked as her mouth parted in surprise.  She did not make to move away, instead she hooked a forepaw around the perpetually grinning girl in a makeshift hug.  She tucked her head fully against the child's as salty tears soaked her chest, and she hummed a tune to soothe her.

She did not know the sorrows that plagued the girl, but she knew in this moment that she had claimed the ghostgirl as one of her own.  Maegi was her brood now, for all they had at the moment was each other.

Though a comfort, she was so unfamiliar with the concept of being cuddled that it was alien to her, discomforting after a while. With a small sniffle and a butt of her head to the woman's shoulder, she extracted herself from the embrace, the undamaged corner of her mouth set in a tremulous smile.

"Thank you," she said, wagging her tail. "I-- thanks." She looked away, feeling suddenly awkward, as if she weren't meant to be there. Well, she wasn't meant to be here. At least the woman was kind, but why had she followed? Her craving for love warred with her yearning for home, and she felt momentarily paralyzed, rooted to the ground in indecision.

She could cross the land bridge, try to go home. Leave while the woman slept with her child by her side. No one else would notice; no one would follow. Perhaps someone off the island knew where to take her. But who could she ask? How could she tell who was ally or enemy to Blackfeather Woods?

She was trapped. She had trapped herself an eternity from home.

"Do you know someone named Cicero?" she asked on impulse, wondering if her father and the boys had crossed by the valley on their way to wherever in gods' name they were headed. "Gray and white, with eyes like mine, different colors?"

She bestowed a kiss upon Maegi's forehead, just above her eyes as the girl offered her gratitude.  Her tail tattooed on the ground, a whine caught in her throat.  As if she could sense the girl's paralysis (though a mindreader she was not), she stood decisively and swayed her head back towards the den.  As far as she was concerned, the broken child was welcome to stay with the broken Apaata family.  

At the girl's continued questioning, her brows knit and she shook her head once.  No, she had never met a Cicero.  Her tongue smoothed over her lips in apology.

Maegi's ears fell, defeated, as she shook her head in answer. Names ran through her mind, so many--she didn't want to overwhelm the woman. Even if one of them could be the link, her ticket home--no. It wasn't possible. These lands were so big; outside the Woods, she'd never run into anyone more than once.

"Okay," she said, giving it up (for now). Something from earlier had entered her mind, and she peered up at the burly woman, tilting her head. "You heard me earlier. You said Mephala. Do you know of the Night Mother, the Dread Father?" She likely hadn't, but Maegi had learned that Meldresi had had family spread all over, and followers, too. Perhaps. . .

No. The speechless woman was likely just repeating her; what were the odds of them sharing the same lore?

She needed a name. What use was it to live without a name? Maegi clung fiercely to hers, even through adversity; it was what made her who she was, what gave her worth, both within herself and to the world. She squinted at the woman, pondering. She would have to come up with something. Moorhen had called her Venninne. . .

"Never mind," she whispered. Whoever she was, wherever she came from. . .she was, in a way, family now. That was all that mattered, for the time being.