Ankyra Sound Sorry to get sentimental tonight

Tagging for reference but open!

The wounds he'd sustained in the battle were mending slowly, just like the wounds that had sent him out of the wilds in the first place. His flesh was torn and bloody, and while some of the blows had landed on parts of his body that were already tough with scar tissue, Firefly knew he'd have more in the coming days. He was thankful for @Erzulie though. Whenever he could find the energy to be on his feet, Firefly would patrol the beach for things to bring her — mostly to replenish her stock of medicinal ingredients, occasionally a shard of sea glass or well formed bit of shell — at least to keep his mind off of his own healing. The wolves of the cliff had done a number on him. If he wanted to be useful he'd need to take time to rest and recover, but Firefly was too agitated following their return to just sit around. Thus he roamed, but today he found nothing of value upon their beach.

staying vague

she had come, only to say she could not stay.
she had returned; departure on her lips.
erzulie was filled with pain and with rage. the worst of her wounds had healed further; walking was not so difficult now, and the slashes about her face and neck delivered by drageda's blackbear had faded into more scars. but she took no notice of them, for by turns was her heart rife with bitterness, and then heavy with sorrow.
the scarred firefly wandered the sands, and though erzulie could only think of being alone, the harlot limped down to join him, lips tightening in something like a smile of greeting before her muzzle lowered to mimic what he was doing.

He hobbled along until he was too frustrated by his own body to move, and stood glaring out towards the sea. Firefly couldn't remember most of the battle that had commenced around him. He tried to think back on it, and could bring to mind the images of the group stealing through the forest — the commands of Caiaphas — the flash of light in the dark clouds as he was set upon, the anticipatory tension of two forces colliding — and then, somehow, they had been back here. His wounds dripping with blood or mashed poultices. It was unsettling to think that something happened while he was unaware; maybe he'd merely been knocked in the head, or the events were so intense that he just couldn't focus.

Something shifted behind him, and he tore his mind away from those thoughts - looked askance at the approaching body, and recognized Erzulie. They had not returned with Rosalyn. The failure was a shared wound among those of Rusalka, and Firefly worried. His snout descended towards the sand again, and he nosed around the soil without saying anything - not knowing what to say, really - until a gleam caught his eye. With a careful snatch with his teeth he pulled something free from the wet sand, and tossed it towards her.

It wasn't a shell like he'd expected, but a tiny gleaming bone.

but she remembered, recalled every moment, every slash of teeth, every snarl and flare of blood in the air. it had not been enough, however — her chest tightened with bitterness. she continued to mull over the earth until a movement from alongside her caught the harlot's eye, and she watched as the scarred male tossed her a small glittering object.
a bone. 
she stared at it for a long moment uncomprehendingly. it seemed as if it had come from the sea, but she did not examine it too closely. instead, it was as if the sight of the shard unleashed something within her; tears beaded suddenly upon her cheeks and she drew a shaking sob.
"she has returned. but she says she cannot stay," erzulie murmured, half to herself and half to firefly. why, she did not know; perhaps it was in the telling of things that would make them more concrete.
easier.

She reminded him of the tide pools along the shore. They could take a beating from the swarming tide, erode slowly with its persistence, and often held on to things too long. Firefly wondered how long she'd hurt, how long they all would nurse these wounds - but most of all, he wondered how he could help. Her sadness caught between them; he wasn't sure if he could do anything at all to help her, but he would try. She did not deserve this hurt.

But he didn't know what to say, either. The relationship between the women was not something he thought much about. If he'd ever lost anyone like that — well, he couldn't remember. Maybe he had. Maybe he saw her aching and her crying and thought, 'I wish I could feel that way,' but he was just a piece of debris caught upon a beach, himself.

Firefly approached and as he drew up beside her, he slowly moved to press his nose against her cheek, but would not do much else in case she did not want him close. He was there, though. Scarred and bloodied from the battle, but present as a shoulder to - literally and figuratively - cry upon.

he was a man, but he was also not a man she feared, nor one who had hurt her. firefly had fought for rosalyn, been a boon to rusalka; erzulie was glad to turn to him, to bury her forehead against his shoulder. her sobs did not grow louder, but racked her all the same, and the salt of her eyes wet his fur.
in their closeness, she realized with a start, she had been craving the touch of another for some time. even the scent of him was welcome, steadying her against the pillar of his silence. and so she cried until her tears had faded, not yet ready to draw away unless he moved.

Oof this is so short I'm sorryyy.

He was silent as she felt her emotions, displayed them, soaked his fur with her tears. His only movement was to offer further comfort, to brush softly at her fur with his snout. Firefly would stay with her for as long as it took — they were family now. They lived, ate, slept, and fought together under Caiaphas.