Dragoncrest Cliffs having dinner in the candlelight

sobeille was sick.

the spectacle of the sky from the night before was a distant memory as she tossed in her bed of peltskins, forehead damp with sweat and stomach knotted. more than once she had retched, but her stomach's contents had been vacated already. all that came was a pitiful, ropey bile.

she sniffed and clutched her belly, sucked in a big breath, and crawled out of her den alongside astera's. the pleasant afternoon had turned into a chilly evening - sobeille was surprised to see how much time had passed.

another wave of nausea hit her, but this time she weathered it with a grimace, laying flat on her belly in the cool sand while her body raged.

The stench of Sobeille's sickness drew her near. In her elder sister Lucette had always seen a kindred spirit; that same crystalline sharpness she felt behind her own eyes, a lurking and darting thing tucked away in the shadowy corners of their faces. Children of the sea; children of Sapphique.

Yet she felt more beneath the scarlet veneer of shared blood. She crept closer now with a questioning chuff, studying her sister in silence. Are you okay? her sea-green gaze asked, muzzle extended to brush across the surface of Sobeille's ruff.

sobeille felt roughly around her stomach: were there shells there? seeds? was something growing?

a groan, and she spewed out another gob of stringy fluid. as she wiped her lips she saw lucette's concerned features, the soft chuff from her lips an unspoken question sobeille did not wish to answer.

she turned onto her back and stared out at the sky. lucette, sobeille announced with the gravelly tone of one gravely afflicted: i t'ink i be dyin'.

mireille leaned soon over lucette; the stench of sick assailed her nostrils. sobeille rolled now and mother's-eye searched for the ailment in the poorly eyes.
more mucus. panic rose; she clipped it back behind the gate of her teeth. "you be eatin' bad shellfish, fi mwen?" the obsidian teased, attempting to keep the atmosphere light for now.
"konbyen tan ou malad jodi a, miette?" mireille murmured, hovered closer to listen at her daughter's breathing.

Dyin'.

Lucette flinched at that word, her typical apathy twisting for a moment into something akin to horror — or perhaps fascination.

Or perhaps both.

She sniffed intently at her sister's mouth, her eyes, each nostril in turn. While their mother hovered and questioned, Lucette circled to take in the scents all over her sister's body — even nosing intrusively beneath her tail. Yes, she smelled sickly. But did she smell like a dying thing? Would Lucette have known if she did?

Her gaze turned expectantly to their mother.

at the sight of maman sobeille stiffened, adopting an air of stoicism that mireille would see as facade. still — sobeille was no longer a baby, and so, did not wish her maman to fret. no shellfish, maman. she murmured dutifully, sinking into the soft skins that housed her bed. as maman measured her respiratory rate, sobeille skulked. a day or two, mebbe.

a cold nose at her rear had her aiming a sluggish, hyaenid bite lucette’s way, though the movement was made listless and slow. ’ey! you can be pokin’ an’ proddin’ me when i be ded. not before.

it relieved mireille to see her older sickened but not laid out with malaise; she took the flash of sobeille's teeth as a good sign and motioned lucette back just a step, unable to hide her smirk. "well, as long as you be talkin' about dyin', i t'ink your sister be doin' more proddin'." for a moment she considered.
"i have honey from de lavender-flowers an' some black slug bile. nasty stuff. extra honey. listen to lucette an' lie still."
she was gone and then returned again, honey in a leaf, water with moss, and a dried spot of the unpalatable ooze all caught in a wide wrap of kelp. "i need you to stay close to home until you feel all de way better, sobeille."

Lucette ducked away from her sister's teeth, stepping away at her mother's insistence — but only for a moment. Stubbornly she persisted in her examination of Sobeille, though she pointedly avoided her rear-end for now.

Listen to Lucette. She angled her muzzle toward Sobeille with a smirk to be sure that her older sister had heard the instruction. Yes, listen to Lucette! With this new authority she flopped herself heavily atop Sobeille, burying her nose into the fur at her sister's ribs with nibbling teeth seeking her flesh. Dying things weren't ticklish, surely!

this was literally untenable; she’s dying and she’s getting teased by her mother?!

sobeille ignored lucette and the hot press of her goading face. if she didn’t look at her sister, she didn’t have to acknowledge that maman was temporarily siding with her.

temporarily being the key word.

curling around herself, sobeille acknowledged mireille’s short departure with only a grunt. she considered sleeping while maman was gone, but the moment mireille’s footsteps whisked away her shit-head sister was back to her usual —

’EY!!

sobeille roared, fending off her vulture of a sister with a hefty kick. geddOFF. moving, at this point, hurt — for a moment, she almost gave into the urge for serious reprisal.

maman’s slinking steps saved lucette from any further physical retribution — sobeille eyed the unappetizing bundle of kelp at mireille’s feet, her eyes widening as she interpreted mireille expected her to eat it. surely this was more teasing, right?

no use in wasting further energy putting up a fight — she’d need that energy to fend herself from her piranha of a sister. seizing the kelp and slug bile between her teeth with wrinkled nose, sobeille ate it, swallowing it all in one crunchy gag.

"good. look, lucette, look how brave your sister be." pleased despite her worries, mireille cupped sobeille's chin in her paw, offering a last knowing look into those eyes before she released and stepped back.
"let de medicine work. i be back wid somet'in good to eat."
rest. rest and time, now, rest and time and that hideous bile. poor miette!
she kissed her elder daughter's face and set off at a gentle lope, clucking for lucette to come along this time.

sobeille did not feel brave — but she brooked no protest as her maman cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. there was something about the fractured beauty in those depths that chilled sobeille — not the fever, not the aches of her bones — but the glimpse of another world she’d never visit, all housed in the brilliant colors of her maman’s observant gaze.

she pointedly shooed lucette off with another snap of her teeth, reluctantly curling in on herself as the pair trotted away. being sick was miserable business; sobeille fretfully willed herself to get better in vain — but the bile would do it’s work unseen, and soon she would be among the healthy.

for now, she turned to sleep.