Dragoncrest Cliffs B-E-A-U-T-Y

miette frowned. the hummingbird on display in the den had whittled away. something about its feathers had lost its luster.

she left it to the clay shelf, taking to the world outside where puffy clouds scampered across a sky of glittering blue.

hours later her voice could be heard hollering over the pines. a flight of birds took to the scattering winds, as little miette stomped on the deep moss.

something soft and crumpled curled before her.

Glintwater Lake had become the boy's preferred haunt, as the clear, cool waters provided a salt-free way for him to cool down during the day without having to venture down to the coastline. Here, it was quiet- just far enough away from both of the densites so that he could escape the constant calamity of other children talking, fighting, playing- sometimes all three at once. He invited no others along with him, and was relieved when the adults of the pack merely let him be as he soaked in the cool, shallow waters. 

Very good. They were beginning to treat him as if he wasn't just a helpless child anymore. 

When he heard a shriek and saw the birds lift up from the forests nearby he sighed. He had no doubts that it was Miette, and that she'd ranged closer to his quiet spot than he would've liked. In the interest of keeping his solitary place a secret, he lifted himself from the water, shook the excess from his pelt and began to make his way through the woods. 

He hadn't intended to cross her path, but it had happened anyway. He spotted her in the distance, and figured he may as well check in and see what the fuss was about.

hope u guys don't mind me squeezing in here! <3

Maleah often found herself curious. Children seemed to swarm Sapphique like little crickets, and the marble grew more and more accustomed to their little faces and shouts of play during quiet afternoons.
Today was no different. She'd come by way of the meadow with a bundle of supplies to store away in her ever-growing stash when the shriek caught her ears. It was one of the babies, no doubt, perhaps a spawn of Mireille's, and instinctive panic stirs in her tummy. That was no feigned shriek, was it?
Her collection is placed in the soft grass before she sets her sights on the flock of birds that shoot from the treeline.

LOOK’ME! miette’s voice crowed, turning to press the soft body to tousaint’s chest.

the stilled thing crumpled at their feet, formless.

the dark brown head lolled. a young coyote with lifeless eyes, miette’s age or less.

miette beamed, a merlot bead of blood forming a single droplet on her chest.

not sure if maleah is in the vicinity yet? i left vague <3

Once he realized that she had something, he knew she'd go for him so he began to steer away, backpedal, side-step- anything to avoid having that raggedy corpse pushed against his fur. Unfortunately, his paws were still larger than his brain told him they were (in his mind they were petite, adorable) and he tripped up. He felt something soft and frail get pushed against his chest, and he immediately dry-heaved. He tried to push his sister and her musty, dead-thing out of his face. 

He stumbled away, leering and gagging. 

"Sa se degoutan!"

By this point in his life, he'd firmly decided that his sister should have been named "Disobeille." It wasn't like there would ever exist any rules that she might even consider fobeying. Not shoving a musty, disgusting, dried-up corpse in anyone's face was common courtesy, but she seemed to overlook those things with a passion. He recoiled a bit and regarded her with a mix of disgust and contempt. 

"Gen yon bagay ki mal avèk ou."

Admittedly, Maleah had been ill-equipped for what awaited her. High-pitched chatter in a language she did not understand led her onward through the brush, until her head pokes through the foliage and the shapes of two round puppies come into view. What also hit her rather immediately was the atrocious, distinct smell of something very, very dead.
Jesus Christ, her teeth mash together inside her mouth as she lets out a low whistle.
Her approach is ginger as though not to startle. She examines; a coyote, a baby; and her eyes travel between the two children. One is disgusted, the other seemingly fascinated; this could be a good teaching moment. And then, she pauses, a little dry tonguetip poking from her lips. Time to figure out a way to go about this. What'cha got there?

miette’s face fell from tousaint’s rejection.  the plaything went unacknowledged, save for tousaint’s cutting reproach.

the long shadow of maman’s healer friend spilled across them. miette met maleah’s inquiry with a sparkling gaze, swinging down to scoop up the slumped body and proffer it to the healer. look!

again the shapeless body slunk to the mossy floor. miette peered downwards, forehead creased in a frown. ’e no want to play no more.

He was relieved when she didn't try to force her new toy on him. He expected her to, which was why he'd taken a step back, preparing to bolt should she lift the raggedy, smelly thing aloft again. With wary eyes he watched her, prepared to dash away somewhere to cleanse the musty smell from his fur, and bathe himself in the scents of wildflowers so he might forget the scent of rot. 

Fortunately, someone else showed up to entertain Miette. She was of some interest to young Tousaint, who knew her to be gentle, but fun. He looked to her with his eyes squinted and brow furrowed, almost as if in an apology when Miette brought the dried out coyote corpse over to show her. Ugh. His sibling was disgusting! He felt ashamed that she might be a representation of their proud family- dragging dead things around like a poorly trained dog. 

His sister made a statement that provoked a snort from her brother. Of course it didn't want to play- it was dead! Beyond dead!

Oh, these poor children.
Tousaint reeks of secondhand embarrassment, and Sobeille of something like frustration at her new friend that could not hear her call for companionship. Maleah herself gives a soft look to the boy before her gaze turns to the carcass, and then to the swollen eyes of Sobeille.
How do you explain death to a baby, especially when the dead thing is right in front of her?
Okay, she reaches out a timid paw to rest upon the dried hip of the baby coyote. Her voice, calm and willowy, as gentle as she can muster. he can't play with you because he's not alive anymore, baby. He's dead, this was a really piss-poor explanation, but this had not exactly been in her medic training. Her ears fall to the sides of her head. when somebody dies, their body doesn't work anymore. They can't feel, hear, or see anything.
Another sidelong glance is given to Tousaint as if he might help her. At least he seemed to understand what was going on.
And when you see a dead body, the good thing to do is leave it alone. If you pick him up like that, it could, um, fall apart, she wanted to say, but she wasn't looking to emotionally scar some children this afternoon. it could damage his body and it could get yucky germs on you. And you don't want those. because that means I have to deal with it.

dead? the trench in miette's forehead deepened. tousaint was beyond repulsed, but miette did not understand.

was this why her little flutterbird didn't move anymore? why the ants she found on the trail stilled forever?

would it happen to her someday? to tousaint?

she peered at the body, still soft --  only hours ago, a pulse sang its merry course under the coyote's skin.

'ow come 'e dead? she followed maleah's lead and poked the body with a paw. the lack of response frustrated miette and she bowed to the ground with a growl, tugging at its shoulders. COME ON, WAKE UP!!

It had not occurred to Tousaint that wolves could die too. He ate meat- meat that took almost no shape, and had only begun to start showing signs of having been something that had once been alive. He'd begun to feel his hunting instincts awaken when he saw things move, and felt himself drawn toward them, wanting to sniff them out and chase them down. But when Maleah began to explain what dead truly meant, and that it seemed to be an affliction of everything that lived, he felt a bit more interested. 

Until, that is, Maleah pointed out that the dead thing might have germs. He hissed softly and backed up, bristling as his sister yelled at the prone creature, and proceeded to shake the corpse. he swore softly, seeing a small puff of dust and dried skin rise from the creature's corpse. Germs, surely. He gagged, and began to trot away. He felt certain his sister was shaking every single pox, plague and parasite out of the dead coyote, and he wasn't going to have any part of it infect him!

Oh, Miette. The sight of her prodding and shouting hurt even Maleah's embittered heart, and her face contorts even more into a deep frown. How come he's dead?
That, she didn't know, at least not upon first glance. Her instinct was to inspect, to find out; but a forensic examination in front of children was not exactly on her to-do list for the day. She puffs air from her nose. We might not always know why somebody died, she then moves her paw to rest at the shoulder of little Miette, urging her to back away. it could be any number of things. Sometimes someone gets really sick and can't get better, or maybe gets injured and can't heal. as she looks at the carcass, she realizes just how recent its demise must have been. It churns at her stomach. but he-- he can't wake up, sweetheart. He's not asleep. Not in a normal way.
Her gaze trails over to Tousaint once more, a softness floating across her features. When somebody dies, you bury them in the ground so that they're nice and protected while their soul passes on, and she turns again to Miette, a sympathetic warmth to her northern tongue. would you guys like to help me put him to rest?

tousaint pulled away with a gag. miette eyed him in puzzlement as he begun to trot away. where was his sense of adventure?

she turned back to the puppy, brow creasing again in a frown. the mystery of why he could not rise again troubled her. what was this burying business? ow come? do we bury ‘im to eat later? her nose twitched inquisitively. a myriad of exciting scents rose to her senses. some bid an instinct in her to rise, to seize the small form and shake it — but with maleah here she refrained.

a soul? her floppy ears pricked. does dis mean i ‘ave a soul? her eyes widened as she leaned in, voice hushed in conspiratory doubt. eben tousaint?

sorry for holding this up! Tousaint is out :)

He flicked an ear back to hear the girls chatting, but he was already disgusted enough by the dead thing and if it was something that Miette took an interest in, well, then he was just going to have to find something else to do. His first order of business was to seek out some fresh water and wash whatever bit of germs, dust, and dead-thing-stuff he'd come into contact with out of his pelt, whether or not it was even visible.

slapping a post on to archive, hope that is ok. <3 ty for thread

a soul.

miette cherished this newfound information. she looked to the ruffled fur of her friend, now soulless -- and concluded that when one's soul had enough, it simply flew coop.

she propped the puppy on a stone. tousaint had left, but she and maleah remained to inter the puppy to the earth.

miette would remember the dark soil that demarked its resting place, and later would revisit when no prying eyes were around.