Dragoncrest Cliffs your mom's an anole.

he wonders where that girl's gone
as he rolls the skull out
and looks it over.

four large holes, carnassal teeth
cranium shaped like a bullet.

what kind of animal do you have to be
that your skeleton looks like a weapon?

the stranger.

sobeille curtailed the disappointment she found to see him -- but her eyes narrowed as she saw something in the dirt between his paws.

had he truly done it? sobeille had only sent him on this errand because she understood it was dangerous. and here he was, flaunting his aliveness despite her every attempt otherwise.

she strode up to him with a flick of her tail, taking special care to look down at him between the regal stop of her nose. dat be my skull you be holdin'. took you long enough.

think of the devil and he appears
the same goes for wicked girls, apparently.
cayetano looks up to see the brisk inspection
the glitter of depthless eyes
not warm, not friendly
kind of like val, he decides -- but colder still.

funny how you could feel dissected
without ever seeing the knife.

your skull? he snorts
and pokes a claw her way
your skull's on your shoulders, silly.
he hefts the heavy object from left to right
mindful of those thick teeth.
so, you want it?

metaphorical hands on hips, sobeille scoffed. did this man think he was funny?

dat's not clever. she announced in the haughty air of a child who had never once felt a backwards hand. why did men always think they were smart?

she noticed he was a little skinnier than last time she saw him, but apparently, not much worse for wear. she'd have to think of a challenge more formidable than seal. but what, really, was?

sobeille remembered the dark shape that nearly swallowed chani whole.

do you be plannin' on giving me dat, or no? sobeille's arms reached out expectantly, already devising when and how she would show sialuk her newest bone.

once cayetano had been a child
watching
the stilt-legged dance
of a sierema

all limb and crooked beak
hard eyes
as it plucked a hapless pup
from the reeds by its tail
swung it around
and bashed its fucking brains in.

a tough lesson for that mother to learn
a tough lesson for him to watch
nevertheless
it was the sierema's eyes he thinks of
as sobeille sized him up.

tough crowd.
at least he thinks he's funny.

he rolls the skull towards her
tyrant child
wondering what use she has for it
all yours, buddy.
he says with an open handed gesture
meant to convey goodwill
if any such thing exists
in the drought of that girl's
spiny heart.
what's your name, anyway?

sobeille practically snatched the skull away, holding it to the light the way a jewel appraiser might hold a glinting diamond. the skull was hefty — and the fangs huge! she could not wait to see what sialuk made of it.

she wished to ignore this man entirely, but now he was an unavoidable part of sapphique - a blister on the smooth lacquer.

sobeille. she sniffed, looking down upon him. he was a male and outsider, therefore beneath her. ’ow did you get this?

she takes her prize
and holds it to the light
the glare of sunset perfectly outlined
through one empty eye.

she's not very nice,
cayetano decides.
it's the way she looks at him.
like he was an insect
only
this was worse
as he'd somehow garnered the attention of a giant.

so, he sets to explaining
seals come to shore for two things --
the first thing is a little, ah
early, maybe, for you to learn about
the second is birthing.

right place, right time
is really the hunter's best mantra.

i know about dese t'ings. sobeille placed down the skull, annoyed by cayetano's dancing around the subject. she was not a child! she did not need to be handled with kid gloves.

my maman will give birth soon. she shared, distracted from her irritation for a moment. sobeille was still undecided about how she truly felt on this matter. so, you wait for de seal to come on land, den? 'ave you ever fought de seal in de water?

oh. she knew about these things!
in that case,
excuse the fuck out of me
he thinks with a grin
he can’t quite conceal. 

yes. but. the other hunter’s mantra,
he leans forward
meets the arachnid glint of her eye:
a seal in hand’s worth two in the water. 
go for easy when you can
cause a warm meal
is never guaranteed 
and you never know
when your first strike
could be your last.

there wasn’t much about this man sobielle liked. annoyed that the tincture she’d given him didn’t take, sobeille passed a dry glance over him.

she wondered abstractly if he thought about death often. the way he spoke, it was like he was trying to pass on some great torch of wisdom as if his hours were short.

’ow do you kill a seal in water? she asked flatly, wondering what it would take to send this man leaping off a cliff.

a grand question for an inquisitive girl
it'd be cute, if he didn't notice her interest
was a little too sharp
a little too keen
a venom-tipped thorn posed behind a screen of greenleaf.

it's possible, but you gotta be fast
and able to hold your breath a long time.
it's best to try them when they're sunbathing
once they drag you underwater,
that's their playground
and you're just another game
where the end goal is waiting out
who can hold their breath longer.

it’s their playground, and you’re just another game.

sobeille thought of the fat seal that ousted her from her perch on the seastone. he’d seemed more interested in sleeping than drowning her.

a shudder raked her spine. what do you know about bone reading, cayetano? his accent and mannerism were outlandishly different than those of sapphique — sobeille pinned him with a curious gaze. what was it like in the corner of the world he’d been born into?

bone reading 
the pagan art of old women
and the horribly insane;
funny how the two entwined,
rarely mutually exclusive. 
maybe being a woman was enough 
to drive any being mad. 

it’s an old tradition,
cayetano draws the shape of a skull in the sand
like star reading, or studying the tides.
he thinks of the old medicine woman
kinilchel
her palms raised to a black sky,
blood pooling from their paws
he shudders and locks the memory away
hoping this girl would never know
the blood price for reading bones 
or seeing the future. 
it’s for crazy people
the coco locos
you know - saltwater drinkers.

sobeille wanted to learn it all -- so when cayetano was quick to share his derisive opinion, her ears swept flat against her darkened skull.

dat not be true. sobeille interjected hotly, feeling a well of defensiveness over the likes of sialuk and kukutux -- two women sobeille admired very much. maybe dey just know somet'ing you don't. she felt her interest in this man fading away, now that she'd learned he was just as unintelligent and small-minded as the rest. the mainland didn't breed them like sapphique did, and there was little redemption in sobeille's eyes for any man born outside their custom.

okay, that’s just like,
your opinion man.
he steps back with paws open
a gesture of helplessness 
older than time. 

well, that’s just what i’ve seen.
cayetano defends his honor,
a nose thrust pointedly in her direction. 
what have you seen, even?
besides mothers milk and nipples.

sobeille had looked away for a moment, but her gaze cut back to cayetano, ruthless and outraged. did all mainland men speak so disrespectfully?!

dat is very rude for a man. sobeille chided, peering down her small nose so that he might be reminded his station was well below hers. for your information, i seen a lot of t’ings. t’ings like big sea beasts an’ stories in de bones. mebbe you can’t see dem on account you don’t have de imagination.

incensed enough to pull the conversation short, sobeille did not wait for rejoinder. sending cayetano a prohibitive glare, the girl left for mossgleam.