Silver Moraine but really when it gets down to it

i know we have 30000000 threads but im musey rip ur threadlog

@Sivaak’s scent rippled like wildfire through the moraine; first a flush of heady and heightening things, and now just a trickle.

she sought the caribou-killer, having meditated these days past on the shape of her future.

a future she wished to ensure sivaak shared with her.

sobeille is her daughter

sivaak prowls; aggression dulled, tempered by something deeper—stirring quietly, unseen. her scent shifts, potent but laced with change. life.

the distant rustle halts her. nostrils flare. a familiar presence.

strange girl, the call rumbles on the cold air of the moraine.

her scarred muzzle tilts. crimson eyes glint with expectation. she waits.

i love their dynamic!

strange girl, comes the expectant rumble of the muradoii. sobeille examines the glittering carmine of her gaze, wondering what magical property it was that made eyes so enchanting.

sivaak, a loose wave of her tail around her travelworn hocks. no denying the scent between them, and yet sobeille wondered. would she tell true?

you find a man worthy?

you find a man worthy?

the question brings a bemused, cutting smirk to come upon the warrior woman's face. the bloodchief nods, hastily, and chuffs lowly to the girl. yes. head turning to nudge at her own chest fluff, grooming herself with thick strokes of a pink tongue.

pausing to grunt. he strong. make strong cubs.

but there is gripping fear in the muradoii hunter. all her life, there has been nothing womanly about her. but now, her womb grows with life. she flowers. her hardened frame will grow plump with the tethers of motherhood. that draws a displeased growl from her.

they born weak, i kill. be done with them.

a man had come and laid claim to sivaak’s body. sobeille was only sorry she had not witnessed such a marvelous specimen.

she bid the jealousy away with a click of her teeth, studying the muradoii as she began to run her tongue along her broad chest.

children — sivaak’s children. this would change things in ways displeasing to sobeille.

dey ‘ave strong mot’er. dey will not be weak. sobeille apprised, though she would not think twice of dispatching either. i know a wolf whose custom it is to drop dere young from de cliffs. the survivors be worthy. an’ de dead — here she scoffed and panned her gaze to the distant sea: be food for de wolves of the ocean.

sobeille paused, ruminating. wit’ puppies, you be needin’ a place safe to raise dem. come back ‘ome wit’ me. sapphique will see dem thrive.

there is silence as sivaak considers. depths of her mind black as the churning sea. to return… it is tempting. but to return to wolves who are not muradoii?

her eyes narrow. but sobeille speaks truth. sivaak is strong but she is not strong in the ways of a mother. she is strong in blood and teeth and the kill.

i will meet your wolves, but her tone does not promise anything. the sea calls sivaak.

and truth: she knows sobeille was never slave. sivaak had full intentions of such, but had grown foolishly fond of the strange girl through their travels.

she is not ready to say goodbye.

in the silence that welled around them, sobeille drafted her rebuttals. she was prepared for rejection and had built an entire argument around it:
- she would be fed
- her strong puppies would be given security and comfort
- they would be raised as powerful women, by women sivaak would appreciate for their strengths
- and mostly, that strange girl did not want to part from her sivaak, and felt more than anything an insane sense of possessiveness that could not be rationalized to a normal person —

none of which needed to be uttered, for sivaak finally broke her silence and acquiesced. even though her tone promised nothing, agreeing was enough.

good. sobeille murmured, unable to hide the tension ebbing from her shoulders. dere is a place beneath saffique called de sound. i t’ink it be a place of power. a place for muradoii legacy, mebbe. her gaze flickered over the proud landscape of sivaak’s hard face. though they came from very different lineages, they were each other’s people.

sivaak hums low, thoughtful.

maybe sivaak claim, she says. if your people allow. if the sea permit.

she turns and begins moving down the moraine. ice and rock crunch beneath her heavy paws.

when does strange girl want to leave? the question comes without looking back. her mind wanders. to the sea. to the ice. to the cold. perhaps the womb makes sivaak grow homesick.

sivaak's expression pans to one of deep thoughtfulness. when such emotions cloud the surface of sivaak's eye, where does she go?

sobeille imagines an abyssal plain; stark and cold and raw in its devoid landscape --

her attention snapped back to the huntress, realizing she had just asked a question.

soon. yura be wantin' to say goodbye to 'er anaa. den we go. and knowing enough of childbirth having witnessed it in both mireille and chacal, sobeille added, pointing at sivaak's belly. before dey make demselves known within you.

sivaak huffs—and eyes narrow at the gesture towards her belly. she shifts and straightens taller, attempts at deflecting any perception of weakness.

good. no waiting. then, tentatively, which is a bizarre emotion to see in the stoic hunter: they not slow me. her best attempts at gaslighting herself.

a pause. eyes narrow.

say goodbye fast.

in sobeille's estimation, having children was possibly the highest pursuit there was. and yet even she could acknowledge the compromise came at a physical cost.

sivaak's tentative response was most uncharacteristic of the savage caribou killer. sobeille nodded, understanding -- for in a few months time, she imagined she may be in the same situation.

we will be in de soun' before dat happens -- if dat happens. she tacked on, already readying herself. an' me n' yura will be quick.

sivaak huffs, shifting her weight with a wince as her muscles protest.

good.

she lowers herself onto the snow-dusted ground until she’s resting fully. kicking out hind legs comfortably, easing sore muscles with ice and cold rock.

go then. i wait here.

exit sivaak except shes still here