Dragoncrest Cliffs is the fairest thing on the black earth,

both of her youngest children had been decidedly unhappy during the seafoam run. but the differences in their expressions had perturbed erzulie. she brought a glossy piece of shell rubbed smooth by water and by sand in search of @Chacal, walking along the clifftop and pausing to send a single yip out fluttering in search of her beloved jackal-girl.
they had learned to communicate, she believed; it was the message behind her child's eyes that brought her now.

Since the competition, Chacal had done her best to keep to herself- though she had begun to put a more concentrated effort into honing her hunting skills. It was difficult to do- winter made hunting a tedious task, as it took more energy to run through the snow, and there were several prey animals that went into hibernation and were no longer available. She'd caught a mole earlier, and had eaten it, though it hadn't been enough. She wanted to have more to show for her efforts, but she had to keep herself fed as well. Just another way she found herself slipping into disappointment. 

So when she heard her Maman's voice calling out for her, she stiffened, and lowered her head. She still felt ashamed of having left the meeting- but she felt her actions had been justified too. Of all the wolves in the pack to be chosen to participate, she had expected that her blood-right might have given her at least some entitlement. It was a lesson she did not take kindly, and likely not one she would face only the once. 

Regardless, she wouldn't run away from her mother again. So she turned to face her mother, though she avoided eye contact. She sniffed, her whiskers twitching, as though to ask her mother what was expected of her.

chacal regarded her in a manner that erzulie did not like. she sat down at once, plume curving over her forepaws, and leveled a steady and unflinching look upon her daughter. the young one knew why her maman had come; erzulie sought an explanation and she would have one. 
her own head had been beneath the waters before chacal left the packmeet, but rosalyn had informed her, and now she came to speak with their child herself. surely both mothers had by now sought her out, and so she did not move, only blinked and breathed and waited for chacal to explain why she had chosen such.

While her mother tested her with silence, Chacal interpreted her method of interrogation to be a bit of a personal slight. Her mother had words that she could use- words that flowed from her with such a beautiful lilt and tone that it was like listening to a poet speak. She could have simply asked Chacal questions which she could have responded to with a nod or a shake of her head- as she could respond to those questions with relative ease. But instead, she chose to stare at her daughter and place even more pressure on her- pressure that was building up second by second. 

Like a kettle heating up on the stove, Chacal felt something warm growing up along the back of her neck. She continued to stare at the ground, but she found her eyes begin to feel dry- she wasn't blinking. A moment later, they began to sting, and then to water. Her breaths slowly became quicker, and when she realized that the moisture in her eyes had spilled over her cheeks- making it look like she was crying, she inhaled a sharp breath, flicked her diamond-hard gaze to her mother and began to spew a string of unintelligible syllables at her, with a voice that was monotone, but nevertheless very angry. Not one ounce of it made any sense. Once she'd finished shouting, her breaths continued to heave, though she did not look one bit relieved from the entire outburst. None of it had made sense. Nothing she'd wanted to say got across. 

But at least her mother could see why demanding an explanation with silence came across as a personal insult.

as chacal turned, changed, erzulie recognized her maternal error. in seeking respect she had surely insulted the girl further. her tone was clear even if the words were not.
when it had finished, when mother and daughter stood staring at one another, one jarred and the other swelling with exerted breaths, erzulie swallowed. she was a proud woman, but even her streak of arrogance recognized that it must not stray close to her bond with her children.
"mwen regrèt mwen te fè ou fache. de fwa."  the language of love she had shared with every child nurtured at her breast. ears splayed, for she had not forgotten the frigid look delivered to her by the gold-caped girl, who glittered now with a bristling and hard emotion.

She wasn't sure if she'd get punished for having an outburst, or if her mother might actually realize what it was that was making Chacal so frustrated. So when she saw her mother's features soften, and noticed the way Erzulie's ears turned back to show deference, Chacal felt something she hadn't expected; validation. She apologized, and recognized that she'd hurt her daughter's feelings- but specifying just two times irked Chacal. She lifted one of her forefeet and scraped it a few times in the snow- it was more than whatever two incidents her mother thought existed. 

But she had little to no means to communicate the others were. She felt she had been a good daughter- she'd not strayed from their homeland, like the others. She had not gotten lost or chased away by a wild animal. She had not put up arguments (before this), and had begun learning how to hunt, and all of that without being able to communicate with words. She didn't know how to find her words- but she did feel as though she had been let down. As though...Nobody had really tried to help her. They'd simply turned a blind eye to what she felt was a blatant predicament, without trying to help her get out of it. She didn't want to be silent the rest of her life. She didn't want to feel different. 

She wanted to be included. And in being left out of the first round of choices for the Seafoam Run, she felt that she'd been punished for an affliction that her mothers had done very little to help her escape. Valravn had been permitted to take part, after all- but he could talk. So could Merlin and Njord, and all the others. But her? No. Part of her even wished that her sisters- Regin, Arcelia and Solaire- had stuck around long enough for her to compare herself to them, to see if they would have been given privileges over her...But it was impossible to say. They were gone. 

Still; some of her ire had faded, now that she'd received an apology. It wasn't enough, though- her mother had words, and she wanted to hear more from her, so she sat, and waited to see what her mother's plans were, now. What Chacal wanted was help. She wanted help, and she wanted recognition that she was doing everything she could. She wanted inclusion. But all of those things- those were things that she believed her mother was responsible for, considering the fact that she herself was already trying to do everything she could.

erzulie was at once both more perceptive than she believed, and not enough. "i want you to join your mama an' i in leadership as soon as you are able," she said softly. "but sapphique must be a place that is fair. njord earned his position as ruby." these were preliminaries to fill the beginning of something she did not say and could not word, a feeling of displacement that wreathed in frustration from chacal.
"i hear your voice even when you are not singing," the harlot found herself saying softly; she meant to impress upon her girl that she was seen and heeded. though as of late she had not done well to show this.
"and i know your presence be important here." she thought of how the girl had comforted valravn, how they had both looked upon her with a malaise of anger and frustration.
"any position you want here is yours to take, chacal; you must only show that you wish to take it. every wolf knows de silent word. an' dey know you be de daughter of erzulie an' rosalyn." a thousand things here that had been offered to children past and never taken. valravn must conquer his fear of the sea and chacal must turn herself into a note of sound, for already she had become an figure that could not be ignored.

She wasn't prepared to hear that her Maman wanted her to take on a leadership position. Perhaps this was merely a thought about the distant future, or perhaps it was simply something she was saying to calm Chacal's spite, but it took her by surprise to hear such a suggestion after having been denied a place in the first round of wolves chosen to participate in the Seafoam Run. Chacal found it difficult to recover from that sort of whiplash. Perhaps she simply was so surprised by the idea of ever being a leader that she hadn't noticed that Erzulie had suggested that there was a catch- she could only be a leader when she was able to be one. Clearly, Njord was. 

But he had been in the running, and she hadn't. And it didn't feel right for the decision to be changed so hastily to include all wolves, after delivering such an insulting blow to her ego when her brother was deemed fit but she was not. She also failed to see what swimming out into the ocean and back had to do with being responsible enough to join the leadership. Was it physical strength that they wanted to see? Because she was small, and she was fleet on land- but against such strong currents, she might never have a shot simply because she wasn't as strong. She wanted to ask her mother why Njord was more qualified than Valravn, simply because he was a better swimmer- but she didn't have the words, and that frustrated her. Her expression darkened. For all her mother said about the process being fair, Chacal felt she was finding plenty of things about the whole affair that weren't fair at all. 

Her display on the beach apparently hadn't been clear enough though she should have considered that had she chosen to participate, she would have been clearly indicating that she wanted to be in the running for the leadership of the pack. She considered for a moment, ruefully, that she might have made a mistake in choosing not to participate, though when she thought for a moment about Valravn...She felt more comfortable choosing solidarity over her own ambitious goals. 

She tried to speak again, but her words were jumbled and tumbled together, which made her growl softly. There was so much she wanted to say, but it wouldn't work. How could she say whatever this 'silent word' was if she couldn't even make a loud one that made sense? She wanted to challenge the notion of using a swimming competition as a means of determining a wolf's potential to lead, and she wanted to vouch for Valravn. She wanted to make it clear that she wanted to be considered important, and that she wanted to seize her opportunities, but not when it wasn't a fair playing field for all. She tried once more only to fail, with only one soft syllable of "Rav" being somewhat indicative of what was on her mind...But it could have just as easily been lost with the other nonsense. She fell silent and stared at the ground. Her brain was cruel.

admittedly, erzulie was unsure of how to approach the situation collectively. how she had ranked chacal low not due to ability but from fear, how she wanted to protect her youngest for as long as was possible. their gold-dust little one was not so anymore; she had grown into a full age, and the harlot saw in her seeking she had made chacal a baby within her own mind.
inner jaw bitten thoughtfully. she hated to see her daughter struggle so, and to know she had been the cause of it. and so she came closer, cinnamon muzzle tentatively reaching toward the girl as she settled again with a tight breath.
"after we los' valravn. rav," she murmured, unable to summon a smile but wishing to ensure that chacal understood she had been heard; "after dat, i t'ink i — grew too protective over you. an' then regin, an' now solaire. arcelia." nieve. reyes. scarab. marisol. "it is not because of who you are dat i have done dis. it be because of my own fears."
rosalyn was no less loving than she, but each of the wives chose their parenting as they had always done. 
"i do not want to lose you too, is all."
a sigh, a shaking out of her spiced ruff. "valravn and you bot' were put out by what happened. you wanted to be dere. he did not. each of you left in de end. it tells me you were not going to respect de decision made by de sea, an' dat your brot'er should not have been chosen to swim. dis despite my feeling dat it would have been better for him to know how harsh de sea can be first, rat'er than maintain his dislike of it. we fear what we do not know."
"an' it tells me dat despite de choice behind my ranking, neit'er of you were ready to be ruby." her voice was soft, devoid of chiding in its explanatory nature. would chacal understand? it was both a mistake she had made, and a necessity. rosalyn was better poised to explain the latter, and she was long-winded in the former. "we be all of us a family toget'er, chacal. merlin an' njord as well. and each of us must swim in any waters; we must learn what it is to be by de ocean. including valravn."
she stopped, for now, mintglow eyes seeking the expressive features of her daughter.

It was good for Chacal to hear, directly from her mother, what her reasons were behind the decisions she had made. Erzulie was an excellent communicator, and no matter how much Chacal's hormones made her want to feel betrayed and belittled, she couldn't exactly fault her mother for wanting to keep her safe. Considering all that had happened, and all the wolves they had lost recently, her mother had done everything she could to keep going and keep the pack together, uniting it so that they might weather their losses. She confessed that sheltering Chacal was her fault, which made her feel better. So she nodded- giving her mother a bit of forgiveness, though she still felt that apologizing wasn't quite enough. She wanted things to be fixed, too. 

Stubbornly, she still refused to believe that a swimming competition was enough to decide which among them was fit to be a leader, and she found that incredibly frustrating. The ocean was lovely- but it was not a living thing that she felt was capable of deciding a wolf's worth. So she shook her head again; the notion of leaving a political decision to something as wild and reckless as the ocean? It didn't make any sense to her. She sighed. Her mother declared her to be unfit to be the Ruby, which wounded her. Would her mother force Valravn to swim, then, if he too wanted to succeed? And what if the sea deemed him unworthy and drowned him- was it worth risking the life of one of their packmates when they had already lost so many? 

She had so much to say, and she disagreed with her mother on the validity of using the Seafoam Run as a means to choose a leader. But she couldn't say it, nor would she simply bend to her mother's will, and participate in something she didn't believe in. She cast her golden gaze out into the distance and huffed a sigh. It didn't seem like she'd be able to do much in order to explain her point of view, with the exception of continuously refusing to take part in their trial, in the hopes her mothers would reconsider its worth.

their song can be anything! <3

chacal would not see the reason and role that the salt played within their lives, she suspected. and this confused erzulie, for her jackal had been created for it, brought to the shore as soon as she could walk. eternally, forever, had the waves shaped the lives first of rusalka and then sapphique; it had called them from plateau to moors. it had given much. it had taken regin;
oh, by now she had accepted it with a horrible grinding in her throat;
that her little daughter would not be coming back.
"soon you have a year, chacal," the obsidian mused. "i have not forgotten dat we will take a trip to where rusalka once lay. where you were born." a bit of plying; erzulie meant still to take this time with chacal, even with the tension between them.
because she had made her choice for the season, they would go after that time.
perhaps then she might see the passion of the bluedark brine, find worshipfulness in her heart for it.
a long pause, and then erzulie began to sing, a smattering of creole and french twisting together, one meant to be sung one way and the other another; piece by piece she began to sing the french portion, smiling softly, gently as she wondered if chacal would join in.

It did her good, to learn more about what was important to her Maman, even if she did not fully realize yet the profound impact that this culture had on her life. The oceanside was a place to scavenge for food, to find things to play with, and a place to find treasures. The sea itself was wild and beautiful- but it was something that Chacal did not look to for answers, while it seemed as though her mothers did. And while brine ran in her veins, she could not yet perceive it, though Erzulie and Rosalyn both had begun to implant the beginning of that idea in the back of her mind, whether she was aware of it or not. The sea was a part of her life- she simply had to realize it. 

Evidence of that truth showed when her mother spoke of the flowers; they had a plan, of course, to bring some of the little purple flowers to the Cliffs, which would happen some time around when she turned a year old. She looked up at her mother then, and was relieved to hear that she had not lost that promise, with her behaviour. She was quiet still, but perhaps a bit more calm. And when her mother began to sing, she found it impossible not to soften even more, gently swaying from side to side with the tune. While she did not join in singing the words- as she figured her mother might stop when she started singing, and she did not want that to happen as Erzulie's voice was too beautiful to lose- she did hum along, creating a harmony to compliment the melody her mother sang.

chacal formed the base of her song, and erzulie sang on in french. it was good that despite what had gone on between them, despite the fact that her baby jackal did not care for the ways of the sea, that song bound them all the same. it gave erzulie hope that in the months to come she would be able to unsnarl valravn from his upset and chacal from her own. she must have faith in the love that had always been the heart of their sea-blessed family.
and so they sang, and she uplifted chacal with the variant sound of the ageless lyrics. octave had sung them once to her. she remembered the voices of her past more clearly as music floated through sapphique. what memories she might share with the gold-cloaked girl, and her voice held a note of deep joy as chacal carried the sound of their melody.

The songs she learned from her mother would become her connection to the past that had been passed down from one generation to the next, shared from one to another, to tell stories of folklore and history alike. From lullabies and prayers to stories that might teach a lesson- the songs were steeped in culture that she inherited every time she heard her mother sing, and every time she chose to sing along. 

Those melodies became embellished as they shared them together, with Chacal adding a harmony of her own while her mother voiced the melody. It played with the meaning of the words, at times adding a flavour that might speak of sorrow or joy to compliment the message the song portrayed. And through the art and poetry of passing song by rote, she learned not just the song of her family, but the song of her mother- whose timbre and range added its own unique iteration of something based in tradition. 

When they reached the end of the line, Chacal nodded her head a few times with the melody, begging her mother to repeat, at least once more- so that she might reharmonize, and add a descant part to float over the top of the melody.

erzulie had a thousand things to teach the girl, but all faded beneath the simple and pure pleasure of singing with chacal. the child, she decided, from early on, had been a masterful instrumentalist. speaking might evade the child, but the sea had shaped her and the old melodies had found their way to her tongue. she was a blessed babe, a perfect gemstone flecked from the very corestone of sapphique.
erzulie was proud of each of her children, but not since nieve had the obsidian indulged in the gentle bond of mother and daughter, growing in ways neither of them might see.
she wound their tones together again, felt the bayou-heat sing and purl among her heartstrings. erzulie found the words again and began to sing them, long drumming syllables that notched together in a lower decibel.
their singing filled the seacoast.

Even with her descant floral and flutelike, she tastefully did not overpower her mother's quiet thrum, and instead chose to modify what could have been a powerful, trilling harmony into something ethereal, with the soft, refined beauty of silk. She complimented her mother's beautiful voice and while the timbre of each was quite different, their contrast in tone and range was what made them fit so well together. A duet between cello and violin, which would leave none wanting for more.