Turtle Island salt despairing

tags for ref or joining, got carried away lol

chani felt herself — changing. a near-month of solitude save for seabirds and offspring had sharpened her ears, bringing an overwhelming sense of paranoia upon the young mother often. there were no voices, and never the howling of kin. only birdsong. she saw no deer, no elk; she saw only the great fish in the expanse all around her, the whales with their misting spouts in morning light, and the leaping smooth bodies of dolphins during the afternoon.
in the evening, orcas gathered to feed on shoals to the west of the tiny island, and by nightfall, at least five sharks passed, on some intention or another. chani knew this because for almost twenty days she had watched the pattern of the island and come almost to memorize it.
in wisps of willow scrub she found rabbits grown fat and docile due to the lack of predators. chani hunted them voraciously, though reminded herself if she cleared the small territory of these creatures, no more would be born. 
seafood continued to make up most of her fare, leading to gleaming coat but a body thinned only to milk-rich belly. 
and night continued to bring chani's tears, her sobbing; she raved in creole and french to the babies, not realizing that not a single word of common had passed her lips. why? why not?
day was the same. endless. lonely. 
the one sole comfort were her children, growing in the exquisite peace of their mother's solitude. chani reminded herself that she had been ready to give her life. was this not the same sort of giving?
"nou pral tann. mwen pral aprann ou naje," the seawolf murmured, kissing @Fabienne and cradling @Noé close. "lè nou pare pou naje pou yon bon bout tan, lè sa a, nou pral eseye."
"nou pral eseye. nou dwe eseye."
what had become of her mother and siblings? what had become of mireille? what had happened with the others of sapphique? it was a torment to dwell upon and a torment not to think of them at all.

Having been born here on this island of solitude. Fabienne was used to the silence and the quiet and the lack of life. And as such she was keen of hearing versus some of her counterparts. And her vocalizations were a bit more wild. And the common language was not something she'd even know if anyone spoke it to her. She was growing up wild and feral.

Today found her running full tilt along the edges of their cavernous den. She had finally gotten to her feet steady and sure just recently and she was anxious ot try out these new legs. And as such she was doing so. Occasionally she fell and rolled, but she merely yapped and returned to her feet. 

Mother had promised that they would learn to play in the shallows and eventually the ocean. She couldn't wait. But despite the feral energy she did mind her mother's words and stuck close to the den for now. Babbling in creole and french. Words that strung together made no sense. Merely a sense of words. Learning. 

Though she loved her mama. There was a darkness to her mother sometimes. When salty water fell from her eyes and she raved at teh kids the sky. It was frightening and yet also something that was so commonplace. She thought it normal.

little children. small fabienne. chani was so grateful to have this daughter of the sea that her eyes overflowed, throat constricting. soon they would be old enough to visit each point on the small island that their mother had named.
and after that, chani would put them into the water, into the tidepools and tiny currents so that they would grow strong in the tug of the surf.
before winter. yes. before winter, they must leave.
she smiled at fabienne, barked a short laugh, sang a high-fluting snippet of french which was carried off by sea wind.

Like his kin, little Noe had grown steadily more sensitive to the world surrounding. He'd begun to gurgle the same sounds as manman, mirroring the tones and phrases and directing them to whomever would listen. A curious beetle, a spider webbing a corner - but most often it was his family. They were his constant.

Chani was here now, scooping him close while Fabienne pranced, but often when she disappeared did Noe feel the urge to follow. He didn't, of course; he was more patient than his sister and heeded his mother's words without question. But he wished to feel the sea, the rocks and the sand beneath his paws. And he wished to keep her company.

Manman sounded light today. Stirred by her vibrations, the boy clumsily lifted his own head and joined with the beginnings of his own song.

Fabienne felt a thrill at her mother's laughter. And the song she sang how ever brief was warm and light. Manman was happy today. For once there was no darkness present.

Fabienne wanted to see more of the island and it was often with impatience she waited to hear her mother describe the places there in.


Fabienne did not answer at first. Instead she listened to her family. Ears perked forward. Still, for the first time, in a long time. Transfixed by the pleasing sound.

they sang!
a wildling duet of mother and son;
a listening daughter.
hear me, sapphique! and her heart, for a moment, was lighter;
do you hear them?
they are free
born into open air and wheeling salt, to the formless void of the ocean, to the air festooned with seabirds.
born free.
chani sang more loudly.