Dragoncrest Cliffs archangel
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#1
All Welcome 
Chantale was stung by a beached lion’s mane jellyfish, which is rarely fatal but certainly hurts like hell

A high, piercing scream rose above the smash of waves.

Chantale, one foot held protectively against her chest, sobbing as she kicked sand at the still ensnared tentacles of the jellyfish wrapped around her paws. The creature was long dead, and she hadn’t meant to wander over it, but the bell had been so squishy beneath her feet that she had eyed up the tentacles as well.

And now she was in a world of hurt unlike any she’d ever experienced. Breath whining in her chest, she managed to escape the snare of the tentacles, but pain still came over her in jolts, all across her legs where the tentacles had brushed her.

Maman! Her voice rose in that same high wail for @Mireille , though when she didn’t see her immediately, Chantale wailed again, even higher.

Maman!
Chantale speaks only in Haitian Creole, she understands English but as she is a little shit, she will not speak it unless she feels it’s necessary. When she does, she has a very thick Creole accent.
Sapphique
Obsidian*
"mireille?? more like misandreille *cackles*"
thank u val, very cool!
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#2
chantale was screaming; chantale was screaming. her mother was a furious ribbon of scarlet hackles lunging along the beachhead until she found the girl.
knowing at once what had happened, mireille pulled chantale toward her, the tentacles moving sluggishly. a hindpaw stamped upon the creature as she tried to slowly separate the long arms from her stung daughter.
once extracted, mireille kissed the crying face. "it hurts so much. your grandmaman erzulie taught me what to do. ah? it will be all right, chantale."
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#3
Despite the tears still leaking down her face and the fear in her throat, Chantale was a creature of vengeance. The moment her mother pulled her into her embrace, she kicked a wide swath of sand at the jellyfish. Even though she didn’t know what it was called, she knew she hated it.

Looking up at her maman, she tried to sob out what happened. How she had stepped on the bell, how she had jumped on it, and then she thought the tentacles would feel the exact same, like a bouncy house. How she’d jumped from the bell and straight into the tentacles.

Se sa ki mal! Sa ki mal! She wailed out, kicking another gold stream of sand at the creature in her haste to burrow closer and further away from it.
Chantale speaks only in Haitian Creole, she understands English but as she is a little shit, she will not speak it unless she feels it’s necessary. When she does, she has a very thick Creole accent.
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#4
hope u don't mind me

Maleah knew that sound, that scream. Anguish. Agony.
She came frantically with every possible supply she managed to gather on such short notice as soon as the firelight form of Mireille made a dash for the shoreline. She hadn't been asked, and ahe knew well she may get shooed away, but that mattered not.
When the light meets her eyes at the end of the tunnel, Mireille is hunched over the figure of her daughter, little Chantale — oh, how her heart twists in her chest. Maleah moves as fast as she can; never before had she dealt with any foul creatures of the sea, as far as she could remember, but she did know the art of poison, and so she felt confident in this.
Mireille, she mutters through clenched teeth, nose brushing against shoulder as her bundle of herbs falls to the sanded floor. take these. I'm going to go get something to calm her nerves, okay?
Sapphique
Obsidian*
"mireille?? more like misandreille *cackles*"
thank u val, very cool!
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#5
not at all! <3

"li pa mal konsa," mireille crooned. "only a jellyfish." maleah was there, then, and the obsidian felt herself strengthen at the presence of the other.
while mireille had been gifted a bit of her mother's knowledge, it was not thorough. she was not a healer. poor chantale. these things invited such curiosity, only to leave one with a painful sting.
"mèsi, maleah," the leader murmured.
she sorted through the herbs until she found something that might be topical for pain, and chewed quickly, a ragged poultice applied. kelp would have been her mother's choice, but she did not want to leave chantale at the moment. "it hurts. it will not keep hurting for long," she assured.
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#6
of course not!! <3

A gentle soothe from her mother meant little to Chantale. The dead creature that had hurt her so, it was evil. No matter what her mother said.

Chantale snapped her narrow jaws, up and down, like she imagined a shark might were it stung by the devil incarnate. A dark shape offered her mother herbs, offered her pain relief, but Chantale’s unblinking, burning gaze stared at the jellyfish, documenting it. She would defeat it, she would kill one and drag it to the beach.

Another snap of imaginary serrated teeth.

Let it be so.
Chantale speaks only in Haitian Creole, she understands English but as she is a little shit, she will not speak it unless she feels it’s necessary. When she does, she has a very thick Creole accent.
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#7
<3

Maleah is as quick to return as she is to depart. She brings what she knows; lavender, poppy seeds, nettle, and what she doesn't; kelp. The bundle is yet again dropped near the writhing figure of Chantale.
Chantale, I need you to listen to me, okay? Um, koute'm, she crouches to be nearer to the gnashing teeth and attempts to slip a few of the poppy seeds upon her tongue, buried in a pouch of lavender to help with the taste. She thought briefly of the mixture she had been perfecting — but to administer such a strong concoction to a child? Unless it did not work, this would have to suffice. this will help you. Make the pain go away.
She slides then the kelp and the nettle to Mireille with a spindly paw. The poultice-- yes, apply more of that with these. The, um, the nettle helps with the swelling.
Sapphique
Obsidian*
"mireille?? more like misandreille *cackles*"
thank u val, very cool!
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#8
caught by the soft seawords on maleah's tongue, mireille felt herself growing calmer as curiosity swept in to replace the jagged emotion. she was learning, the obsidian told herself redundantly; considering it piqued the crimson ears and the quiet heart, which knew devotion when it showed.
and maleah was becoming one of them. already she was, and yet she was drawing ever nearer. mireille crooned to the injured girl. "do as she says. you will feel better," in loving reassurance, as jawline and pawpad worked to smooth the chewed mess of medicinal greenery over the aching flesh. "look at me, eh? not at dat t'ing."