Dragoncrest Cliffs I put my hands in the fire
Fear is the heart of love
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I know erz tossed a few, but it's been a while <3.  Only if you have time!

The run had gone without incident, but @Chacal had left before it's close, and @Valravn had refused to participate.  The choice left Rosalyn bothered and she sought each out, though she was unsure who she would encounter first.

Her daughter's behavior bothered her more.  She couldn't imagine what had caused the childish display but Rosalyn had little patience in her for it; if she was insulted, there were better ways to call forth a grievance than hiding.  Perhaps it was unfair to judge her for lack of communicating, but this wasn't it - it was the lack of attempt.

Impatiently she searched the pines that marched up the cliff's incline, scouring for a trace to follow.  If they refused to voice their troubles, they could at least give her a moment to listen to her own expectations.  She would not allow resentment to grow, not this time.  Never again.
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#2
I will have all the threads, with both Mamas, ALWAYS.

She was fairly certain the creature she'd spotted was an ermine- hardly more than a snack, but it was something. All she'd seen had been the tiny black tip of its tail, and the little, sparkling black eyes of its face before it had turned and disappeared into the snowy landscape. It left behind a visible trail in the snow, which Chacal pursued at a trot, hoping she might catch up with it before it stowed itself away in a place where she could not reach it. 

Unfortunately- it had spotted her, and it had indeed made the most direct route possible toward a burrow into the snow, that also tunneled underground. The apex predator would discover this only a few moments after it had darted inside, and with an exasperated yip she began to dig furiously at the ground. She might not be able to catch it- but she would ruin its burrow out of pure frustration just because she could.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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;v; <3

She would happen upon Chacal first.  She was digging, though it wasn't apparent to Rosalyn immediately why.  She paused when she saw the flurry of emotion and was at first alarmed, thinking it was a fight.  But then she drew closer, saw the dirt and her daughter's focus, and released a small breath of relief.

Rosalyn circled around with a small huff to indicate that she was there, but didn't break right in to speak.  She'd allow Chacal to finish, and instead watch curiously, wondering what it was she was attempting to do.

Still, the conversation lurked on her mind... and there was more than one reason to wait.  It might be smart to see how she was received, as well, before jumping straight in.
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Her efforts would be completely fruitless. Somewhere off in the distance, the ermine would peek its little face out of an exit trail, and look around to make sure that he hadn't been spotted. Chacal, meanwhile, continued to dig at the frozen ground, making a mess of the small entrance and putting herself through a bit of strain even though she knew she wouldn't get a meal out of it. If she could just make things a bit more miserable for her prey, she might feel a bit more satisfied. 

She looked up when she heard a soft huff, and at first her bewildered stare was slightly offended. She'd been so focused on her meaningless task that she hadn't been watching to see if she'd been noticed by any others...And her expression didn't exactly brighten when she saw that it was her mother who had caught up with her. Her posture sagged in the way a reluctant subordinate might wilt when they expected to be chastised. She set her jaws together, and without a word, began to push the earth she'd loosened back into the little tunnel in the ground. She wouldn't catch the ermine- but she would block its tunnel off. It was simply a means of making it look as though she was somewhat busy, so she might avoid the conversation she felt was inevitably going to hit her at some point.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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THE PULSE WHEN IT RESPAWNS
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following the unfortunate seafoam run, (which had done nothing at all to assay valravn's fears of the ocean) val trailed belatedly after his sister.

the walk gave him enough time to ruminate; he'd become aware that he'd been so engrossed with his own feelings of hurt, that he had not stopped to examine why she had been huffy and moody as well. it occurred to him that her sensibilities had likely been injured because she'd been excluded. why had she been excluded from the race anyway? val wracked his memory, and recalled the race had been hosted for those in his rank.

it was weird thinking of his sister as anything less than his equal. he felt uncomfortable designating her a rank separate from his own. for whatever reason, the thought just didn't jive with val -- who looked at chacal and was struck by how worthy she was, and how unworthy he was in comparison.

he meant to give her the rabbit he'd caught on his way to finding her, as a token of apology. his own selfishness had caught him by the tail and he intended to fix it -- except, as he trailed after chacal he became aware of another scent.

his mother.

hmph. val's expression cooled immediately. he walked past rosalyn without even acknowledging her -- a first for the boy who usually was so jocund -- and dropped the rabbit by his sister. she was preoccupied presently with digging and ignoring rosalyn as well -- good. val set in line next to her and dropped the hare, beginning to dig his own small excavation in the cold earth.
NEGATIVITY, WE JUST DEAD IT LIKE D-CON.
Fear is the heart of love
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Gift her the patience to handle the moods for children, for Rosalyn was not, by nature, a patient wolf.

Chacal ignored her with a studious attention and, after a stretch of time, it became clear she had no intentions towards voicing (even with a look) the ire she'd shown on the cliffs the other day.  Rosalyn felt her frustration prickle, and it only worsened when Valravn... cheerful Val... stepped past and settled in to do the same with nothing but a disrespectfully heated glance.

Rosalyn's pelt prickled and her ears tucked back as she turned her good eye to burn first into one, then the other.... and a low growl of disappointment uttered from her gut.  She'd expected better of the both of them.

If you wish to still be children, then by all means, keep ignoring me.  She said, a bit of a biting edge to her tone, overlaid with heavy disapproval.  She eyed them both.  But I cannot fix what I do not know, and right now, I see no reason for this.  In truth, their rebuff hurt.  As did their seeming unwillingness to speak with her, in any capacity, about the source of the upset.  It drug claws along an old wound, a pattern she'd hoped not to see surface again, yet one she seemed destined never to avoid.
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She was content to remain belligerent, and kept pushing dirt back into the hole she'd been digging as a means of blocking the ermine's exit. It could suffocate for all she cared- she felt as though her inability to speak was suffocating her, so she knew the feeling. 

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, and she was perhaps prepared to nip at whoever it was who'd come to flank her so closely when she saw that it was Valravn. And at her paws he dropped a rabbit, before he began to begin his own excavation in the ground- a gesture she perceived as being solidarity. She could have wept from the flood of relief and validation she felt in that moment, and she reached over to nuzzle his shoulder, hoping he might pause in his digging for a moment so he could actually receive the gratitude she felt singing in her heart. Of course he understood her. She knew he'd picked up on how she'd felt, to be excluded from the race. 

When their mother addressed them, Chacal was incapable of ignoring her completely. She slid a glance in her mother's direction, but her expression darkened when they were labelled as children again. She lifted her chin abruptly, though, when her mother confessed just how oblivious she was to the affront she had caused her children. Chacal nudged at her brother's shoulder again; ignoring their mother wouldn't do them any good- but he was the only one who could effectively communicate their problems, and she wanted him to do it, for both of them.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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val stopped his digging twice: first, when rosalyn's low growl cut through them -- and second, when chacal nudged him and for a moment he caught a glimpse of true gratitude ringing her gaze.

he resumed, his back obstinately to rosalyn. being called a child did little to indulge his feelings of generosity towards both parents -- his gaze flickered back to chacal to see if she too caught that little barb.

but he was a child! he was their child! they should know -- they should be implicitly aware -- of how they had hurt their children. even though val was gifted with gab, he couldn't work his tongue in a way that could express that satisfactorily.

with a sigh, val pushed aside the earth and turned slowly back to rosalyn. val had never so much as insulted either of his parents -- but in this moment, a rogue adolescent streak speared through them and for a confusing second, he wanted to hurt them as much as they hurt him and chacal.

that urge passed, but val still felt incensed in its wake. "we are children." val pointed out, his voice tight. "yours." he sniffed nervously, a curiously high pitch coming to his voice . "why didn't you let chacal race! and why did you do it on the water? how could you?" his final words came not as a question, but an accusation -- for val had been deeply aggrieved by that action in particular, and how both had been complicit in humiliating him and chacal in public.
NEGATIVITY, WE JUST DEAD IT LIKE D-CON.
Fear is the heart of love
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Rosalyn felt her anger rise in response to her son's and it was hard controlled.  She did not appreciate the whining lilt to his words.  You are not children. She answered, trying to keep her tone patient.  Both were near to a year grown and soon might have siblings to worry about.  They needed to accept their new place in the pack.  And adults do not sulk.  She turned her gaze to Chacal, then sighed, and tried to smooth some of the harshness from her.

Her patience was so frayed, of late.  She was tired.

You were both welcome to race.  It was your decision not to. Still looking at her daughter, whether her gaze was met or not.  It was your choice to turn your nose at the chance, and if you believe you deserved first choice, you are welcome to prove it.  So far Rosalyn had seen little of Chacal's desire to rise.  Valravyn's too, though she didn't question Erzulie's placements.  Njord and Merlin were older and both had led hunts in recent past; Haunt was proving herself an asset as well, in short order.  Her brother had impressed Rosalyn in doing what her own children had spurned.  It wasn't her voice that harmed Chacal's chances, but the way she had allowed this to drive her from participating within the pack.  It was unfair... but it was all the pirate knew.

We are a pack of the sea, whether you like it or not.  Even the newcomers understand this.  She studied them both, wondering if this would only make them angrier.  There is no shame in not racing.  There is shame, however, in turning your back to the rest of the pack and asking me why you were not given the chance.

Silence.  Her tail twitched, but other than that she was still, waiting for a response.  For better or (as was her assumption) for worse.
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Not children? So when had they become adults? Chacal was surprised at that statement; she didn't consider herself to be an adult. Teenager, sure- but not an adult. There had been no announcement, no celebration, nothing- as far as Chacal knew, she wouldn't be an adult until she was 9 months of age and while that was only weeks away, it didn't mean that she was an adult now. Valravn had been given a rank higher than hers, so if anything, he was the one who was older, and he was the one who could have had more expectations, but asking him to swim when he clearly wasn't comfortable seemed wrong. Shouldn't the real adults in this situation simply have accepted that they'd chosen a task that wouldn't endanger his life? Or did it matter more for the wolves to be pitted against one another in a swimming competition regardless of the fact that some might drown?

Her ears flattened when her mother said they'd both been welcomed. Chacal shook her head furiously. No, she hadn't been included, at first. She'd been excluded. Other wolves- noticeably, three male wolves had been chosen to run. Njord, Merlin and Valravn. This had not escaped Chacal's notice. The first choice had been them- and she had been omitted, which had made her angry. Despite everything that had happened- with Raleska, Rosencrantz and Kaertok being killed, with Solaire and Arcelia and Regin missing- she had stayed, and had continued to persevere. Was that not enough? Or had her sisters done the right thing and left before they could be left out?

When her mother told her to prove that she wanted to participate, she scowled and yowled a string of words jumbled and tumbled together into a stream of spiteful, exasperated nonsense. How could her mother not see that she'd wanted to participate? She had been standing on the shoreline as eager to participate as any of the others- but had wilted when she'd been told she wasn't chosen. So she tried to accuse her mother of fabricating an idea of her that wasn't true- but none of it got across, and it infuriated her. She growled. It wasn't fair that she had been left out of the running. She had been with the pack longer than either Njord or Merlin or Vex or Haunt. But she had been tossed out of the running, why? Because she couldn't speak? It was the only solution she could come up with. 

And she had stood with her brother in solidarity. If their mothers would make a sport of choosing who was worthy of leadership, and in such a way that could cost them their son's life, then she would certainly have nothing to do with it. 

The discrimination left her with a burning feeling in her chest, that threatened to spill over into sadness. She pressed her muzzle against Valravn's shoulders and held her breath so she might try and hide away the shame of knowing she was different, and that she was now being judged because of it.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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valravn's eyes widened to be called an adult; if he had crossed any milestone, he certainly felt no different for it. his gaze studied chacal a moment, for they were close in age -- and to him, she was still his young sister. adult had such a final ring to it.

he found he wanted no part in it. valravn vied for the child's life -- the wild imagination, the days spent endlessly exploring. the magic of discovering a stone that was different than others, or finding a new cave -- or even, seeing the way a tree grew against its brethren and bent against the sky --

all of this would be lost, the day he became an adult. the joy, the wonder, the imagination that he saw in himself and saw dead in his parents -- it would all bleed away like a tow tide, never to return.

no, not him. not his sister, either.

valravn swallowed, feeling much the same as chacal. while he had the wherewithal to utter it, and she only yowled, he still felt her frustration get clearly across. and frankly, while he was being immature, he didn't really recall things the way rosalyn did. which meant either he was wrong, or rosalyn was --

and as a child, valravn refused to admit it was him.

"dis be unfair." val commented in a rare form of his other maman's heavy accent. with a flick of his tail to announce he would have no further talk, valravn turned to his nudging sister and pressed his shoulder to her in a silent let's go.
NEGATIVITY, WE JUST DEAD IT LIKE D-CON.
Fear is the heart of love
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How to make them understand?  Their ire hurt, but she was for the most part unmoved in her opinion.  Chacal seemed to grow frustrated, uttering a string of sounds that had no meaning, but the language of her form was clear enough.  Good.  Despite everything, then, a lesson was being learned.  Rosalyn looked at her for a long moment, thinking.

Only the Rosada are invited to participate in the run.  If you wish to swim next time, then show that you want it.  Seek leadership through the months before, not on a single day.  She said, looking at her daughter first.  This was a start, and she would remember it, though she was disinclined to give in to demands put forth like this.  She saw no understanding in them, no desire to give she nor Erzulie any credit or trust.

Valravn neither.  Rosalyn felt her frustration sharpen as she failed to find the words she needed to explain.  In fact... the entire argument, after her statement to Chacal, scattered.  It isn't fair.  It was for the rest but it seemed she would be incapable, today, of convincing him it was for him.  Before she could stop it, her temper thrust the words forth.  Many things aren't.

It was the wrong thing but it was a truth.  Later she would likely speak to Erzulie and discuss the swimming, how Valravn seemed to fear it.  But today she would not move for the sake of his outburst and she instead let it rest on a cutting edge.  Distaste in her own ability to manage the pulse of this conversation reared forth and her ears flicked back.  We can speak more later.

At least there was a half-apology to her tone there, but she couldn't manage now.  It didn't matter, however.  They seemed already prepared to go, and when they went, she would not stop them.
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Last post for me. But this family is amazeballs.

Chacal sniffed softly, and cast her disinterested gaze away from her mother. She didn't find it fair that her brother had become Rosada, and a few other non-familial males as well, but not her. In her opinion, Valravn was indeed deserving of the rank- but she found the premise of the swimming competition lacked reason. Why should swimming determine rank? 

All she knew was that she and Valravn both felt snubbed by the choices their mothers had made. So when Valravn made to leave she moved with him. She would pause, though, when her mother spoke something that could have been considered a warning- that theh would talk again. Chacal heaved a sigh, though this time, it was tinged with sadness. It was just another reminder that she couldn't speak, and that their communication would likely be effected because of it. How would she be able to discuss this again? 

Solemnly, she'd nod. But her heart ached, as she followed obediently after her brother.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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wrapping this <3

Rosalyn watched them as they departed and knew her words hadn't done the job. Frustrated, she clenched her jaw, turning from their retreating forms and striking once, roughly, at the ground with a forepaw. It did little to relieve the tension of the moment.

She needed time and space to think about this, to compose what she might do about it. She knew from practiced experience that reacting to the hurt she felt now would only cause things to grow worse. She would speak with her wife, discuss what they might do, and attempt to fix things later.

Right now, she needed to take a walk.