Dragoncrest Cliffs the purloined letter

set on 12/8, if that's okay <3

she'd given just enough time to look her wolves over and assess for any injury. particularly the children, who had—to her delight—jumped into the fray without hesitation.

and Avicus had mulled sending a messenger in her stead, but no. this would be quicker.

fleet feet carry her to the towering, oceanside forest of Sapphique, and she stops at the border, ragged tongue dangling as she pants. a moment to catch her breath, then she howls for @Erzulie and @Rosalyn, and feels her heart beat madly in her chest.

it's time. time to stamp out the threat to their homes once and for all.

and if the seawolves refuse to join her, then on their heads be it. because Nyra would return—and the white bitch didn't discriminate for blood.

The call isn’t familiar. The face is, but not enough for her to truly recognize it, and as Rosalyn strides stiffly towards Avicus her bearing is suspicious. She and Erzulie no longer lead these shores and the call had an air of command. There was an urgency she felt unwarranted, especially from one who did not know these shores well enough to know who pulled their strings.

Her lip lifted. Erzulie might know better when she joined, but at the moment, Rosalyn had little patience. Her teeth were a warning. You have no claim here.

She no longer led but every stone here was hers. She answered to none on these cliffs.

erzulie's brow was furrowed as she stepped to rosalyn's side. avicus was hotheaded and fierce; she liked the younger woman a good deal. 
but the command was arrogant and meant for the pair of them, showed that the red wolf did not know that leadership had shifted.
"be careful," she said with the same command spoken by her wife. let the rise woman understand that she had dared wrongly. the seawives could deny an audience with sapphique's leadership, sour alliance with the redtail pack. she wanted respect.

Rosalyn's hostile greeting brings her to a heartstopping halt, Erzulie's even more so. she blinks at them, looking between the two matrons, mouth slightly agape.

big whi'he woman, she manages, through the vise that clenches her throat. who 'hhrea'hhenedh your boy. back. kill one of mine. ouhh' for bloodh.

it's as simple as that.

but she doesn't understand the frosty reception. her legs are stiff and root her firm to the ground. will this be a repeat of her blunder with Atreus? is she not meant for this dance of diplomacy?

we needh' help, she continues, indigo eyes wide as full moons.

Avicus spoke of these things as if they should know them, but Rosalyn remembered nothing but a faint trace of familiarity. This girl was someone she’d seen before but she did not recall when or where. She also didn’t recall a child of Sapphique being threatened.

Her expression remained aloof and her tension did not fall, but Rosalyn did not attempt to add anything. Fortunately Erzulie seemed to feel similarly inclined to be wary of her, but there were things here she was missing.

None of these words meant anything to her. She didn’t know why they would help a near stranger, but Avicus had called them expecting it. Most would know that to be a useless attempt.

rosalyn did not relent after avicus' explanation. that fell to erzulie, who straightened in a tinge of chagrin.
"we are no longer leadership." perhaps it hurt to say aloud; perhaps the perceived slight to her pride had raised her like a slap to the younger woman's insistence.
or was she too slipping?
"when was de killin'?" she asked next, wanting to gather details before she called for their children. she glanced to rosalyn, wanting her mate to stand down but understanding that to explain would be to force her wife into losing face.

her eyes turn downward, humbled. how had she not known? she's embarrassed for missing a key bit of intelligence on their closest allies; she could have asked, kept track. . .

but what's done is done. day ago, if 'hhat, Avicus replies briefly. Shey's murder surely still shows in the deep lines of her face, the missed sleep and the hurried travel.

she turns to Rosalyn. i worry, she goes on. her indigo eyes are soft upon the woman who had cared for her, once—had something happened to turn her? woman killedh my ma, kill oh'herh'. no one 'hhafe wi' her aroun'.

but she does not know if Sapphique will rise to the challenge, and nothing here so far had given her confidence in that.

At Erzulie's glance, Rosalyn relented a bit, but her gaze remained cold and detached. There'd been a time when she'd seen Avicus almost as a daughter... so perhaps it was fitting she'd forgotten her now, just as she had so many of the others. No warmth or sympathy flickered in her when the woman spoke of a packmate lost, nor of a coming war. She cared little about the trials of strangers.

She wasn't so far gone as to not know what was being asked. Her answer was a resounding no; she would not see their family harmed in a fight they had no reason to join.

But she was no longer a leader here. Her eyes went to her wife briefly, expression wary. They could call their daughters if she wished, but Rosalyn would be just as happy to send her home disappointed now. It appeared the woman would defer to them if they chose to hold judgement here.

nyra. killing theirs. erzulie's muscles flexed, for what represented one threat to them could mean more to others.
rosalyn was steadfast. avicus strengthened her case. and the former obsidian felt the old, old restlessness in her: for fighting. for war.
"de decision do not be ours. i know mine, cherie." and she exchanged a firm look with the younger woman. "but we do not be speakin' for sapphique."
she stepped back, tilted her crown to call for @Chacal. mireille was not a mother; she did not understand what was at stake. and sobo was a man, her son, her boy. a child of these shores. but this was a talk for mothers who knew that the backlash might be upon their children.
sobo and mireille would be included in whatever decisionmaking came next. the initial order — or denial — must come from chacal.

The scents had caught her attention on the flirtatious wind. The scent of her mothers, as well as a wolf from Redtail Rise; one she recognizes well enough, thought she was unable to put a face to the scent. It would be none other than Avicus, the wolf who seemed to have captured Ashlar's loyalty. Her scent marked the borders, every time Chacal went to visit her son, Reki. Theo had done so well in Avicus' care, though she felt her other son was quiet, solemn. Still, he did not wish to return to Sapphique, a home he still did not long for. 

So she'd decided to meander in the direction of these scents, curious to hear from her mothers soon after why the wolf had paid them a visit- until she heard her Maman call out for her. She did not miss that she was selected out of the Roja to attend to the visit, but wondered why Mireille should not be sought as well. Perhaps her mother had caught her scent and knew that she was lingering nearby. 

She padded forward, and took a seat at Rosalyn's side, so that her battle-scarred mother could be framed between both herself and Erzulie. Her mother appeared stoic, resilient. The woman who faced them was like red clay; firm and russet. 

"I be Chacal, Tanzanite of Sapphique,
what be it of us dat you 'ave come to seek?" 

She flicked her ears forward. Like her mothers, her gaze was even. She could feel that there was attention, though she sought to cool it with the light tones of her voice.

she watches the brown woman emerge, the one who'd captured Ashlar's spirit. 'cal, she replies briefly, faintly, and waits until they are square face to face to commence further conversation.

a big whih''e womanh, enemy of boh' our packhh', Avicus continues. back. kill one of my own. an' couldh' come again.

the words might be mild, ish, but her tone is very grave. and her eyes, even more grave. her indigo gaze burns into chacal's, insistent.

she sucks in a breath, anticipating.

Erzulie called Chacal. When her daughter arrived, Rosalyn took a step back, willingly deferring the conversation to her.

She would abide by whatever decision was made. There was a pack that they had ties to, perhaps, through her grandchildren. If this was that one, and Chacal chose to move, she would move with them. But she hoped her daughter chose to leave inland problems to those that made them. The peace they held here had served them well.

Any desire she might have had for action was overshadowed by the knowledge that her body was no longer what it was. Faced with a stronger and younger foe, she likely would not easily win - and a war at her age felt more like a death sentence than ever.

gonna say erzulie is skippable while chacal and avicus talk! <3

the former obsidian greeted her daughter with a warm look but did not smile. this was a war council.
and erzulie found herself aching for the enlivening spark of battle, even at her years.
she was a field medic and she had not forgotten this. but the decision to send anyone belonged to her children now, a fact of which she remained proud.

She did not receive the woman’s name, but when she began to speak of the packs’ shared for, she parsed from that implication that this could be no other than Avicus. This was Ashlar’s friend. But this was not a quarrel: she would not hold past grudges when the woman who harboured her son came to her door. 

Chacal did not have memory of a white wolf being her enemy. A bear loomed in her memory, not a wolf. But one of the wolves in the Rise had been struck down in an act of hostility by one who had targeted them before. It sounded like they were a wasp nest that had been kicked, now swarming to chase. 

”I am sorry dis loss ‘appened to you.
Grief an’ injustice are difficult to subdue.” She wished the woman to know her empathy. She had felt gut-wrenching rage and grief when Requiem had been stolen from her by an eagle. For weeks, she had suffered. But unlike her, Avicus’ packmate would not be found, safe and sound in the arms of another.

But while she empathized, she would not endanger her own for a battle she did not believe to be their responsibility. Her concern was her son’s welfare- now that the Rise was apparently being targeted. 

”De life de wolf took from you, 
Be yours to avenge. 
An’ I wish you de best
On your path for revenge.

But if you ‘ave come to call Sapphique to action,
I must decline; dere be no attraction for us to go to war. 
I do not know your foe, but I wish you speed an’ strength. 
Should you need healing or medicines in the hunt’s wake,
We will share dat wid you, make no mistake.” She said. 

”I will see your border claim be fresh; 
Protect your lands while you roam. 
Dat way you may hunt an’ catch,
An’ return one day, victorious, to your home.”

She visited Reki often. Doing a patrol to maintain the borders would be a simple task to add on, and allow her to make sure her son was safe.

the musical way in which Ashlar's child-mother fills her with unreasonable rage. every pretty syllable over her perfect tongue—and her ire grows further as a denial comes, albeit paired with a promise to help heal and protect and watch over the Rise—

her Rise—

her face must be stone cold as she stares at the young woman. soft, like the man she'd ensnared. her gaze shifts briefly to strong Erzulie, scarred Rosalyn.

they would have fought with her. clearly, though, the guard has changed.

well, Avicus says, with an air of grave finality. the savage desire to eviscerate Chacal for her refusal curdles briefly in her own guts, then subsides, sinking like a rock. no help here. and Aventus and his sons gone, too.

we 'hhank you, she manages, addressing all three women. we will be back.

before she leaves, she lingers, waiting for any last pleasantries from the old mated pair or—God help her—Sapphique's new instrument of peace.

still skippable lol

avicus changed in that moment. and there was nothing to be done for it. a younger erzulie would have gone at once.
but she was no longer young. there was a pack filled with children and those yet to be born. avicus understood. and yet [mdash[
she would abide the word of the daughter who had come to power in their pack. her lilting voice held no untruth, only wisdom. and in this she was proud.
she dipped her muzzle once in recognition of the rise woman's ferocity.

Rosalyn had once seen something like a daughter in Avicus. But now, seeing her reaction to Chacal, Rosalyn’s lip curled with cold dislike. Her daughter was right. No alliance was worth shattering their strength on some distant struggle, especially not one that would carry them inland.

Avicus had her own to look to. If they deserved what they wished then they would be strong enough to take it. If not it was no concern of hers.

With a last look of approval at Chacal, and not a word otherwise, Rosalyn turned to depart. Nothing more needed to be said.

Chacal could feel Avicus' disappointment, and would have guessed that it simmered and brewed into something much darker, though she remained calm. Her eyes, feverish and bright, betrayed her. The way she clenched her jaw, and looked to Rosalyn and Erzulie- only to be met with stone-faced loyalty to their daughter- it looked like it dealt an appropriate blow. She felt perhaps they had lost an ally in Redtail Rise, but Chacal truly did not see the point in chasing after a madwoman. Not when she could not be convinced that if they didn't, some harm would befall them as well. 

The red woman left, silence following her. Her mother spared her a glance, one warm enough for Chacal to feel she had made the right choice. She looked to Erzulie, her eyes softening; she wanted nothing more than to please them and keep them safe. She could only hope that this choice would not have future repercussions.