Ankyra Sound the end declared from the beginning
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#1
All Welcome 
maybe @Illidan? :D

no one would keep her from the sound if she did not wish to be kept.
and so she did not stay away, but it was not a gift to be upon the sound that day. 
rosalyn — her brow furrowed. it had only been the day before that she had been with her lover, but the hours had worn on and the corsair had not returned. with drageda pissing and stamping across the sound, the harlot was guarded, and the glint of afternoon light illuminated her figure with a cold glow as she searched silently for the amber wolfess. chiding herself for her fears, presently she slowed to watch a flock of gulls wing into the air, and her belly clawed with hunger.
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the gunslinger
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#2
it was fortunate that the woman hungered. as the boy trekked across the sands with a large fish clamped proudly in his mouth, his intention had been on placing it in a cache. instead, the sharp yellow of his gaze caught sight of the woman – a stranger – and he wondered what was occupying her mind so powerfully to have drawn her where she stood. it was this intense expression on her features that gave him pause before he swallowed the nervousness in his throat and prowled forward in an approach.

once he was nearer, illidan could scent that there were others on her coat. the aromas that were adorned in her fur were familiar, so he did not think that she wasn't intended to be on their beach. with a muffled sound to announce his presence, the dark-hooded young man dropped the fish at his feet and nudged it forward. “i don't believe we have met,” he stated simply, his tone gruff. it was safe to assume that he had not met many of the wolves who had gathered around his mother, but he had never been good with conversing, and he did what he could to start off without rugged bumps.
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#3
her concentration was broken by the approach of the ash-grey male who moved with a feline power along the beach; he was male, yes, but quietly fascinating: a grown man in the youthful body of a younger sort. "we have not," the jezebel murmured softly, turning toward his confidence. "i be erzulie. i come up from de sout' wid yo' muddah and her ot'er children." and rosalyn, of course, but some twinge in her heart beat back the name.
presently, despite her hunger, she paused to scent the air for drageda; the patrols annoyed her, but it would do no harm to stay upon alert. let them come, however — caiaphas' claim only grew stronger by the day.
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the gunslinger
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#4
when introduced, the woman addressed him with an accented voice and a name that seemed as though it had come from a faraway place. the wildling peered at her thoughtfully before nodding his head. at least he could trust his senses for the images that they seemed to paint for him. while it was only slight, there was a noticeable relaxation of the muscles in his shoulders and the way that he carried himself. if this woman had come with his mother, he did not anticipate that she would be someone to worry about.

“i'm illidan,” the boy introduced quietly before nudging the fish closer to her. “you can have this.” once it had been placed in the sand, he realized that it didn't quite appear as large as he had first thought. a small frown creased his features before he returned his sights to the foreign woman. “where are you from?” illidan then inquired with a slight canting of his skull.
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#5
illidan offered her the fish he had brought with him, and erzulie's hunger was too great for her to demur. she fell to it, pulling long strips of the sea-salted flesh from the delicate little bones, careful to leave a bite or two for the young male, despite his offering. it was the polite way.
belly sated for now, erzulie gestured with the dark line of her slender muzzle down the coastline. "a bay once called ironsea. a bear drove us out, and two of us moved up and down de coast before we foun' caiaphas." a wry smile laced the harlot's muzzle; she glanced into the intelligent pressure of illidan's gaze. "an' if you mean before dat, a lan' of swamps and heat. very far from heah."
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the gunslinger
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the wildling listened intently as the woman told him of her previous homes. he wondered if she had lived her life as a traveler, or if she had simply found herself under unfortunate circumstances. illidan also wondered if the bear had been the same one to uproot them from their living quarters and had cast them out into the wilds. it wasn't likely, he imagined, but he did not know the chances of finding bears beside the ocean.

when erzulie mentioned that she had originally been from the swamp, the boy's ears cupped forward with a great deal of interest. as he had never once experienced such a place, illidan thought that she surely had a great deal to share about her previous home. “what was that like?” he asked quietly, leaning forward slightly to gather all the information that she could offer him.
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#7
rosalyn. she was all right, oui? the lovely pirate was made of strength; she had seen strife and folly before erzulie ever washed to ironsea. she would be all right.
"humid," the harlot rejoined, turning her attention fully to illidan even as the mantra thrummed in her skull. "when you breat'ed, it was like de lungs demselves were sticky." a smile then; sometimes it was good to recollect the bayou. "big trees wid branches that brushed de water an' de eternal trilling of insects."
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the gunslinger
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#8
the things she said about her home did not seem as though they belonged to a real place. at least, illidan had never heard of such a world. it was mesmerizing to know that the world was vast enough to contain such a location. she had made note that it was very far from where they stood. something in him wondered what had pulled her away from a home of that sort into their wilds. though he carried in him the means to be a dangerous vagabond, the boy had always liked the thought of remaining in a single place. it was possible that his childhood had spurred this in him.

“do you miss it?”

before he could prevent himself from asking the question, it had fallen from his mouth. the young man peered at her with an intent expression. though he might have regretted letting the inquiry slip, it didn't show on his face. instead, he appeared as though the swamp woman had garnered his entire attention.
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#9
to his question, erzulie rolled her shoulders. "i do, but even if i went back, it would not be home." too much had changed. she was no longer the wide-eyed, naive child inducted into the trade — nor the girl at the peak of her power. she had grown ... bitter, wearied. and marie had betrayed her in the end.
"what about you, illidan? you were born here, yes, but where have you traveled since den?" she moved along the beachline now, expecting him to walk alongside her in perhaps a routine patrol of the sound, scouting for any bands of drageda wolves who might have boldly moved into their claim once more.
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the boy listened intently to her words, finding that they had struck a strange place in his chest. perhaps he had made the mistake she never did; he had returned home after having found a new one. there was a chance that he had been turned into a fool for having done so. impulse had never treated him kindly in the past; he saw no reason why that would change based on where he had settled.

“we went...” all over the place. he refrained from the corny response and instead, the savage youth furrowed his brow and frowned thoughtfully. “i just remember going to a pack and being turned away when we were hungry and tired,” he finally offered her with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. in reality, the boy appeared as though he was increasingly uncomfortable with the present conversation. it had sparked memories inside of him that he had wished to erase. “after that, it's hard to remember...”

but it wasn't.

illidan could recall each day after they had been cast aside by the easthollow wolves. he remembered them all in vivid detail – they had been scorched into his mind with a fiery brand. there were many things he did not wish to share with the woman he had just met, and so he had found an excuse in lack of memory. the hooded young man wished only to hear more of her. he followed as they trailed the beach and aimed for the borders.
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#11
illidan seemed suddenly less at ease, struggling with memories her questioning had dredged up. not wanting to press him further, the harlot nodded. "some t'ings are better left alone." more vague than she had wished to be, she moved along the shoreline, the tall boy with her, and was silent for some time before she opted to tell illidan of her time in the teekon before she had met his mother.
"along de coastline, down dat way, dere was a pack called ironsea. a lan' of fierce pirates. we lived in a bay, and we lived from de sea. it was where i met rosalyn," erzulie added, glancing to the young wolf. here her expression grew rueful; she looked to the sands and then forward again. "a bear came. it scattered us. perhaps de same bear dat came here when you were young."
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the gunslinger
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#12
he wasn't a fan of that particular phrase – some things are better left alone. he felt like it was apathy's way of allowing things to pass. perhaps it would have been a valuable skill for the boy to have learned, but he harbored far too much ill will for those who had wronged him and his family. her answer was an easy one; to leave things alone. it meant that he would not have to struggle to battle with his own feelings over things he probably could not change or make right.

yet, illidan did not feel as though he could do as she suggested. he didn't share this revelation with her, not wanting to offend the sage advice that she had opted to provide him. instead, he turned his sights away from her features and peered along the stretch of beach. one ear swiveled back to her to listen to her tale of the life she had lived before arriving in the sound.

“i should like to sink my fangs into that same bear, if i'm ever to see it again,” the wildling offered her with a sharp glance of his gaze.
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#13
"i did," erzulie murmured in response, returning the pointed glance with one of her own. "an' rosalyn also. we fought de bear for as long as we were able. i almost lost her." here the harlot's lips trembled; she looked away from illidan down the stretch of cold land that had become theirs. had she not lost rosalyn after all, in the end? 
dragging her mind away from bitter contemplations of what was transpiring with her lover behind the forbidding clifftops, she shook out her honeycream withers and smiled toward her leader's son. "tell me, illidan, have you ever sparred before?" he was a hale, serious boy; she would have been surprised had he not experienced a scuffle in his life thus far.
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the gunslinger
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#14
the woman stated that she had been close enough to sink her teeth into the tough skin of the bear that had uprooted her. she mentioned too that rosalyn had been capable of doing the very same, but that they had almost suffered a loss because of it. he could not help but to notice the way in which she spoke of the incident and how it had nearly changed her life. it was brutal to think that they had not been torn apart by the claws of a bear, but the savagery of the wolves on the cliff. there was no honor there.
 
of course, the young ghost lacked any skills that would have allowed him to comfort her. instead, his frame stiffened, and he turned his sights away from the woman until she had fixed him with another question. this one seemed fitting enough, for all of the thoughts that he had about ripping rosalyn’s kidnappers to shreds. “once or twice, but i’m no master,” the boy remarked to her with a soft shrug. “i should like to be some day…”
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#15
we can fade this with another round since we have an updated one, if you want! <3

"one day," she smiled, "i have no doubt you will be." her stride became more rangy; when she did not speak of rosalyn, it was easier to breathe beyond the ache in her chest. and she was with good company for it too; illidan provided a source of intelligent conversation that skirted emotion.
gathering herself into a trot, the harlot pulled herself ahead of illidan and broke into an impromptu run along the beachside. her mintglow gaze darted back over her shoulder, to see if he would follow; it felt good to stretch her legs, and she enjoyed a race from time to time.
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the gunslinger
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#16
i just like threading with u okay?

there was a confidence in her voice that assured him her words were genuine. he could only hope that he would prove himself to be as good of a man as his father had been. somewhere in the depths of his subconscious, he believed that it would allow his mother to love him more. he had been the one who had been forced to tell her of the old man's death, and he would have to be the one to repair the damage that had caused. but he had such a long way to go.

illidan offered the woman a haunted smile and bowed his head to her. when he drew his hawkish gaze upward, he saw that she had taken a spring to her step. with a deep breath, the young ghost gave chase and allowed his limbs to carry him away from the thoughts that plagued his mind. he cared little for actually overtaking her; he only wanted to run.
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#17
AND I LIKE THREADING W U <3

and run they did, gliding like specters over the sands with the buoyancy of the young and those who have not yet let their age rest upon them. run they did, until laughter found the harlot and the boy again, and for a time, they were unplagued by the darkness that lurked with rosalyn's absence.
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