Blackbeak Bluff who alone but he scapegraced and goated me?

and so, in one fell swoop, caiaphas' claim upon rusalka was over.
she should not have been shocked when firefly rose to challenge the old witch for her rank. he was to be a father, twice over, and men who had their heads swelled with the fleeting power of sex were wont to do foolish things.
rosalyn had gone off to challenge him, and had come away with a crown, and erzulie had removed herself from the sound with a firm step that belied the new weight in her body. while she did not think the pirate would do anything to betray her, it was convenient that rosalyn had reclaimed her title of alpha and would now rule alongside the man who had fathered both their children. it was omniscient, too bitterly reminiscent of what marie had done.
and so she had gone away, the harlot with round belly trotting over the sea-moors until at last she was alone, to contemplate the fate of rusalka and consider that caiaphas might well take her brood and leave them now.

Driftwood was wandering somewhat aimlessly, his feet as restless as the frequent spring breezes that wafted and skirled across the only-vaguely-familiar landscape. This near to the coast, while the faint tingling taste of snow could be scented on that wind still the rise and fall of the verdant lands were largely unmarred by any patches of white. Though if he squinted, Drift thought he could see one small dirty patch tucked deep into the recesses of the craggy rocks jutting from the earth some distance away...or, well, maybe that was just an impressively sizeable heap of bird poop. The feathery little critters were thick as midges in numerous spots hereabouts after all, much of the time; thankfully right now the skies were mostly deserted, however, and the air carried few if any birds' cries along with its own soft whispers.

Though perhaps it wasn't all that fortunate a lack this day: Driftwood had to admit as he stalked along, brow furrowed and head lowered and only haphazardly scanning the ground before him, that his heavy thoughts might have been able to use a few more distractions. They were eddying in circles and going nowhere, over and over returning to his beloved island and the pack that piece by piece had been dissolving since Seelie had so urgently departed and taken much of her immediate family with her. Driftwood understood the necessity, admired her for departing with such alacrity to help her extended family, but nonetheless he missed them all already. And like a sore tooth, he kept returning to thoughts of them, to wondering how they were faring, and, well, to Moorhen too he had to admit. All of which meant that he tripped over a long gray log that inconveniently placed itself just before his left forefoot.

Driftwood stumbled, but managed to recover before he did a full-on faceplant at least. But it was a close thing. He half-folded his ears back in embarrassment, coming back to himself with some quick blinks just before scanning the horizons to see who else might have seen this little gaffe of his. He wasn't entirely thrilled to at second glance spot a female in purposeful motion not all that far away. He moved half a step sideways and only then did the uncooperative breeze bring her scent to him: no one he knew, and gee little zephyr couldn't you have warned me just a little earlier of this anyhow? Driftwood hesitated a second, trying to take the lady's measure from afar, but what started him taking a few cautiously concerned steps involuntarily in her direction was the suspicious lump in her profile. Drift's feet picked up into a trot of their own accord as the furrow in his brow changed a little, having a new source of worry to distract itself with now. Hey are you possibly— he started aloud as he obliquely approached toward her rounded-out side with his head and voice kept moderately low, and then caught himself. Perhaps he shouldn't be asking too-prying questions of strangers. If he could help it. I mean, uh, are you all right? Can I, uh, assist you somehow?

thanks for joining!

too distracted to notice the other's faux pas, she did however bring her attention to bear on the loam-hued creature that approached her quietly. a man, and while he did not reek of the cliff-dogs, his masculinity was a very threat to the children she carried. and so her hackles rose; she made no move to close the distance between them, warning the male not to come nearer with a silent lift of her lip to reveal the glint of teeth beneath.
"i am not sick, only wid child," the harlot rejoined dryly, wondering why so many assumed pregnancy stripped one's strength completely. "you are not from drageda?" for despite the absence of the reek in his scent, erzulie must know, for her own sake and for the sake of this meeting. if he revealed himself to be such, she would summon rusalka, and put to death another of their curs. but if not — she kept her mismatched eyes trained upon him mistrustfully.

Certainly!  ;)  And sorry, RL still has me going really slow, hoy...

His ears airplaned out to the side and drooped down further as his head dipped and his tail tucked itself a smidge tighter with a tiny apologetic wag. He was no great shakes at social cues a lot of the time, it was true, but even one as thick-skulled as he could take the bloody hint when the female's guard hairs stood out on end and her pearly whites flashed in his direction. He stopped where he was, and prepared to backpedal, when her dry voice addressed him and halted him in his tracks.

Oh, uh, that's good, he managed, and then backpedaled verbally, anyhow, at least. I mean—that is good? I hope? Worth a congratulations? He chanced a quick dart of his eyes upward to quickly try and assess what her reaction was to this. What if she didn't want these pups, after all? What if it was some dark or terrible or tragic backstory behind them, full of betrayal and loss and heartache? Shit, he didn't know. Why hadn't he just learned to keep his mouth shut already... but no, she had hit him with a direct question, now, and that demanded an answer.

Uh, no, n-n-no, I'm not—I'm not Dragedan? Gee didn't that answer sound confident. Was that a good thing, or not? Again, he found himself lost in the woods and not knowing which direction to move in to get himself un-lost instead of even further bracketed by endless thorny wilderness. I'm not...I'm not anywhere-an right now, actually... Much as he hated to admit it. Gosh, why did she have to keep staring at him like that with those so-strange untwinned eyes? Driftwood tried not to shuffle his feet and hang his head like a schoolchild caught in the middle of making mischief, with only limited success.

me too D:

the man responded well to her warning, and erzulie sheathed her teeth as he fumbled an answer beneath the heaviness of her stare. she rather enjoyed his discomfort, a smile slipping to her muzzle as the moments ticked on. "dat is good," she dropped with a spicier glut to her mocking tone than usual. "an' yes, your congratulations is welcome."
a flick of her plume. "i be erzulie, from rusalka," she introduced, having decided that the man was not a threat. a few movements of her small paws brought her closer to the man. "are you in need of a home?" erzulie inquired, settling her two-toned eyes more alluringly upon him, for no other reason than her own sense of humour. "i can arrange dat."

Oh, he said once again and somewhat inanely. Oh good. She seemed satisfied, for the moment, and somewhat to his surprise was even smiling at him now. A little. Driftwood dared to relax a hair and reminded himself how to breathe again. He didn’t know what he would have done if the lady hadn’t been in a forgiving mood...not only was he no great shakes at fighting anyhow, what was he going to do, bite a pregnant woman?! But the worst danger of encountering that dilemma seemed to have passed, at least, if this Erzulie’s expression was any indication.

If only she would stop staring, though! Oh, u-um, it’s good to meet you. I’m Drifwood? Wait, no, that wasn’t supposed to be a question, Drift, you idiot. He repeated with a little more self-assurance: I’m Driftwood. Only to be brought up short again immediately after by her query that caught him flatfooted, though perhaps he should have seen it coming at least on some level.

Did he need a home? Yes, in truth— and yet— and yet— Words to that effect stuck in his throat as he found himself involuntarily glancing back over his shoulder to his former island. To the place he had last lived... to whence he had last seen Moorhen. I... I don’t know. Maybe. I guess. Driftwood swallowed hard, and glanced back to Erzulie for a moment before his eyes dropped down to the dirt where his forefoot scuffled a few small furrows of unease. But...not today, I think. His brow creased with the heavy thought, the unexpected realization that he wasn’t quite prepared to move on from Undersea quite yet. That even if Seelie and company had departed, some part of Drift was yet hoping to find Moorhen again and figure out... he didn’t know quite what. Something. Foolish perhaps it might be, but there it was. And running off to join the ranks of this Rusalka would have felt like putting the final nail in the coffin of that private dream of his; a beautiful though fragile bubble he wasn’t quite ready to pop. You’re very brave, though, to be inviting strangers in to darken your doorstep with your pups on the way and all. He summoned up a quick, small smile of his own for her in return.

"are you somet'ing to fear?" she inquired, putting aside the rest of his stuttering and stammering. perhaps the wolf was charming in his own right, but now erzulie took a great pleasure in teasing him a bit. "rusalka is strong. those who t'reaten us will not survive."
it was with a great deal more confidence than she felt that the harlot spoke, but presently she motioned the man to her side. "will you walk wid me, driftwood?" she asked gently. surely he would be better company than her own wayward and fickle heart; she could use the distraction, and he was not unpleasant to look upon.

Rrrgh, I h8 u 2 RL... Apologies for slowness; I’m expecting & hoping to get back on track soon, here >.<

Driftwood startled a bit, his ears flattening back at the suggestion that he might be a threat. Sure, he supposed he was sorta biggish compared to some wolves and all, but—was that some kind of joke?! He meekly peered a little closer at her even as his brain wrestled with the strange notion that he might look menacing to strange wolves that didn’t know him... Oh, wait. There seemed to be a bit of a twinkle lodged deep in her own genuinely intimidating eyes as she stared at him quite entirely unafraid—yes, it was supposed to be a joke. Driftwood grinned a bit sheepishly and wagged his tail a little, low, though he felt relieved and, okay, very slightly disappointed.

Not that he really wanted to frighten others—just that, well, it might have been slightly useful, in some circumstances at least. And these days he was feeling rather at loose ends and somewhat useless; it would have been something newly leverageable about himself to wield at least, maybe. Or to know that he could wield should the occasion so arise. ...But probably not to the extent he could have fit in at Rusalka anyway, from the sounds of things; they sounded rather intimidating overall, even if this girl Erzulie might have been an exceptionally overawing figure among them. Heck, just being around her alone in her supposedly “fragile” state was about as much as Drift could handle... He had to forcibly suppress a quick little shudder at the thought of a whole pack of Erzulies. ...Though, mind you, Moorhen had scared him too at first. But there had really only been one of her in Undersea, or anywhere, thankfully! He caught his lip on a tooth for a moment at the memory.

At least while she was alone, though, and now that she was speaking more kindly, Erzulie’s exuded confidence was actually somewhat soothing. She was indeed a brave one, and Driftwood couldn’t imagine her pups could ever really be in danger from any other wolf with a mother like her fiercely defending them. Perhaps it was his own puppyish ineptitude that inspired her to invite him along on her stroll; Drift didn’t know, but also didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He agreed with an eager and more boldly raised wag of his tawny tail. Certainly! Not that he could likely have ever refused what came across as a commanding gesture to him as the pregnant lady indicated her left side. Driftwood’s lanky legs stepped obediently into position with alacrity. His eyes flickered involuntarily to the bulge in that selfsame side as he moved alongside her, however. As much as a way to distract himself as anything, he impulsively asked, Say, you don’t know, or happen to have seen about, a bitch named Moorhen, do you, I mean would you have? And then immediately he wondered how wise an idea that query really was. Too late, though; the words had slipped from his tongue so
easily!

wow this slipped out of my memory I AM SORRY

it would have amused her immensely to know of the man’s discomfort in her presence, at least initially. resilience and darker events had curated erzulie’s sense of confidence; men were not creatures oft intimidated by her small stature and delicate frame.
but the old scars scattered across her body were testament to the fact that she had allowed no man to subdue her, to rank her beneath him based upon the profession into which she had been taken.
marie had taught her well. of course, marie had given erzulie lessons in all sorts of things, the first being how to earn supper the same night, and the last — a study in abandonment.
realizing that driftwood had been speaking and she had lost the train of his thoughts, the harlot returned to herself. ”i have not heard dat name before,” she answered. ”who is moorhen?”

No worries! I've been terrible and slow still in any case myself, erf... muttermuttermutter RL, ugh. But oh well...c'est la vie sometimes!  :/

Driftwood caught his tongue and waited in trepidation with bated breath for Erzulie's reply. His ears pricked, then folded indecisively back, then perked back up again, their acrobatics reflecting his inner turmoil. He wasn't certain just what answer it was he was really hoping to hear, but as it turned out, the main emotion echoing inside a sudden hollow emptiness within him when he heard Erzulie respond was... disappointment, intermingled with a touch of numbness and a growing sense of the futility of even asking. His tail and whiskers both drooped, but he feebly tried to summon up a brave smile nonetheless.

A whole fresh churning of emotions started boiling within him, however, as he considered now how he could answer her question. How on earth could he boil the lovely Moorhen down to just a few paltry words? It seemed so dry, so clinical, so completely unable to encompass the creature he still held tight in a cherished corner of his mind...but, well, all that probably wasn't the sort of deep, spiritually resonating take that Erzulie was looking for, here, admittedly. Oh. Er, uh...Moorhen is...um, was ...a packmate of mine. And then Driftwood stopped, overwhelmed by the task of trying to rein in his feelings and wrap some sort of neat descriptive package around them. She's, uh... got markings... here? He halfheartedly pointed his nose somewhere in the vague direction of his own ribcage. Then he tried to swallow away the sudden lump in his throat as he stood there hesitating, and his eyes cast themselves down to the dirt.

gonna wrap this up since it's several months old. thanks for being my writing buddy! <3

a narrowing of her eyes; erzulie was by nature a suspicious individual. she remembered vaguely a woman by that description, perhaps before rusalka, but it was not of merit to mention it. not so, for it seemed this man was a wanderer in lovesickness, and erzulie had not the energy to help him with such a quest. she was jaded, yes, yes, first by marie, and then by all that had befallen her since.
her belly churned with the small movements of the children within, and suddenly a grasping nausea rose to choke her, as fear for their wellbeing flared in the guarded recesses of her soul. could she bring them into such a world? where drageda still loomed a toothed threat?
"i need to be gettin' home," she choked out around the salty taste of her own saliva. "you must forgive me, driftwood." mintglow eyes blinked in his direction; erzulie was not without a heart, but now her own only craved the presence of her wife.