Sea Lion Shores endure my heart
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#1
All Welcome 
the morning sun has only just begun to crest the horizon, painting the dawn cloaked forest in muted golds; bringing to light the red sap that oozes from the trees of ravensblood like mortal wounds. it reminds her too much of the wound that killed dacio and in a surge of what can only be described as hatred, praimfaya turns her back on the forest, peering out at the coast that yawns before her. the tang of seasalt grows strong upon the air as she moves until solid ground gives into the shift of sands under foot and the roar of the ocean becomes more than a distant lull.

it is here she stops; silver against the dark sands and gold gilded world, peering at the endlessly churning dark waves. it is eternal, she thinks, the ocean. it feels only fury.

to be commander is to be alone

yu gonplei ste odon, praimfaya kom roankru. if being the commander of death means that everyone i love will die then i don't want it.

the dead are gone. the living are hungry.

nau ai na kik. as who? praimfaya looks out to the ocean, already knowing the answer. she had dreamed among the bleeding sequoias of ice and her mother, blodreina. azreina. azreina eyjolfur.
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#2
Beautifully written - it was a treat to read. :)

For the past few days Norah had settled temporarily in a nearby forest. Ocean was generous in providing her with edible debris and the well-hidden badger den offered her a safe shelter not only from the elements but from potentially hostile interactions with resident packs in the vicinity. She had caught scents of quite a few settlements here, but at present had no wish to explore them closer. 

This, however, did not mean that she did not wish to have company. Self-sufficient as she was, having someone else beside her to talk to was always refreshing. Therefore on the day, when she found fresh tracks while scavenging, Norah wasted no time to find out the intruder. Which turned out to be a white-pelted, quite young she-wolf. Lost in her own thoughts and speaking in a foreign tongue. 

"The sea won't reply you," Norah said, when she had drawn closer. "I might," she smiled at the girl mischievously.
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#3
!! thank you!

the shifting sands and rumble of the ocean as it crashes again and again muffle the sound of approaching footfalls; thus when a voice reaches out to azreina, she starts. head whipping from the ocean, swift footwork turning her body in a effortless pirouette to face the stranger. wearily, she studies the coal and ash dappled woman, considering her words and the mischievous smile azreina sees tugging at the woman's lips. maybe she already has, azreina suggests with a small shrug of her shoulders.

she isn't sure what makes her think the sea is a 'she' but only knows that it feels right as it leaves her lips. are you from around here? azreina inquires, not-so-subtly asking if the woman before her was from one of the packs settled in this area. her interest had only ever been in the packs in great bear valley; she only now sees the fault in that ignorance.
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"Did she?" Norah tilted her head to the side, looked over at the large mass of water (she was no poet and would have described it just as bluntly as her narrator did), then back at the girl's face. She studied it for a while, as if searching for something, and then that moment of curiousity had passed and, perhaps, Norah had found her answers. 

"Maybe," she shrugged. That was not a lie "from around here" was a term that one could stretch thin. Size and area were relative things. "Depends on the perspective," she added. "If she spoke, what did she tell you? Out of interest."
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#5
who we are and who we must be to survive are not the same.

maybe, the dark pelaged woman replies, as vague as azreina herself has been. it was a fair response but it leaves too much to be desired. is she to assume, then that she is? or that she isn't? it was a simple question, azreina disputes with a small shake of her head; but in no mood to argue she lets the topic drop. she supposes since she has no interest in prying into information the stranger doesn't want to divulge into, that she'll have to poke around on her own. she doesn't want to join a different pack ...at least, she doesn't think she doesl however, what she wants and what she needs appear to be warring conflicts within her.

shedding the title of commander — commander of nothing, as she was — was the easiest step. it's everything else that would test her.

she didn't speak, not really. azreina corrects with a small shake of her head, ears fluttering back to rest at half mast atop her skull. more like ...she helped guide my thoughts to the conclusion i needed to come to. azreina explains tentatively, frostbound gaze searching the older woman's face for her reaction.
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Whatever helps you get on by, Schatz... Norah thought to herself, when the girl revealed that the sea had helped her make a decision. She also knew now that she had met an interesting person, since she herself was not superstitious at all and did not believe in otherworldly forces governing her fate. This did not mean that she thought any less of people, who did. If that made their lives easier and better - by all means, they had to go for it!

"And what conclusion was that - if that's not a secret?" Norah questioned further. "No, let me guess!" she interjected with a cheerful glint in her eyes, before the girl had a chance to reply. "Ein hübsches Vogel wie du..." she closed her eyes musing. "Has it something to do with a love affair? You decided to break someone's heart, am I right?" Norah wagged her tail and smiled, finding this game of guessing amusing.
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the woman is cheerful in a way that azreina no longer is; unable to find reason to buoyant when she is so weighed down by grief. that i need to kill wanheda. she thinks in response to the woman's question, but offers a coy tilt of her lips instead; letting the woman make her own guesses. a love affair. though dacio had been a teacher to azreina that had not kept the young, starry-eyed commander from developing a crush on him, as she'd developed a brief crush on arcturus.

oh! how she wished that the dark pelaged woman was right. how she wished to be the breaker of hearts instead of always being the one nursing a scarred heart that has withered and died.

surely, that would be easier.

nevertheless, azreina finds herself flattered that this is the impression that she paints for the stranger. it is my heart that has been broken. she admits after a moment, her coy smile faltering; twisting into an expression of pain.
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Norah had prepared herself for a longer game, but she had hit jackpot with the first go. Not that "emotional turmoils" were among top things, why one would seek solitude on the beach and look somberly at the horizon. Her playful expression changed to genuinely sympathetic. 

"Who was the villain?" she asked and had the two been strangers, who had happened to meet in a bar on a Friday night, she would have bought the other a drink and chocolates.
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azreina does not want the sympathy she sees morphing upon the woman's face. sympathy wouldn't bring dacio back, no more than it had brought ingram or blodreina back. maybe, she considers wildly, she should scar her flesh in memorial to them — but tucks the idea away; at least for now ...to be reviewed at a later date. in the end, though, killing the other natblidas had been so much easier than watching those she loved die — or in the case of her father, coming across his torn apart body.

frostbound gaze floats away for a moment, watching as a thick strand of seaweed floats atop the frothy surf and twines around her ankle. for now, azreina ignores it. i don't know, azreina admits after a moment, going through the last time dacio and her had spoken — she takes a small, sharp breath as that thought stings. the thing she recalls being mentioned was blackhead's daughter, though the rusalkan had not been the one to attack osiris.

but perhaps, azreina thinks, she might be able to point her in the right direction. jus drein, jus daun, after all. she didn't have to be the commander to ensure that tradition stayed intact. he was injured protecting a packmate. his injury... it killed him. another pierce of a blade into her heart; still resilient as it beat and bled and withered within its prison of bone and sinew.
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Norah had hoped to hear a cheezy story about some jerk messing with the girl and then leaving her for another. Instead it was a story more personal and serious. Not a fling, but an actual loss. The she-wolf knew that she should feel sorry for the other, but having never lost anyone dear to her and never been that close to anyone either, she could not imagine herself in the girl's shoes. Norah was convinced, she did not wish to do that either. 

"That's unfortunate," she remarked. "What are you going to do about it?"
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the older woman mentions that it's unfortunate — azreina cannot help but agree with a solemn nod of her head — and then asks the ex-commander what she plans to do about it.

jus drein, jus daun. jus drein, jus daun. jus drein, jus daun. over and over and over in her head until it is nothing more than a mantra.

jus drein, jus daun, but by giving up wanheda, embracing azreina eyjolfur ...does she have the right to 'blood must have blood'? yes, she thinks. it will be her last act, done as the commander of death before wanheda is buried for good. how can she rest, how can she move on when she knows that the one responsible for dacio's injury that led to his death is still out there?

and yet...

it means 'blood must have blood', azreina offers in explanation. but avenging him would not bring him back. in this, she is wholly torn; at war with herself. i should seek vengeance for his death. for he had meant that to her ...he was worth the risks. but ...it will not bring him back. she adds, quietly now; the war making itself known to her companion.

what would you do? azreina inquires then, assuming that as she was older than her the woman might have insight to offer her that might help.
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Ahhh... what would Norah do, if having to walk in the girl's shoes. She pressed her lips together and looked upwards, toying with the situation in her mind. Pulling strings here and there to see, how it functioned, trying to predict all of the possible outcomes. 

Then she replied: "Do, whatever makes you feel better. Kill the bastard, if that's the justice you crave. Cripple him - so that he always remembers. Torture him - so that he never forgets. Sacrifice him to the gods, if you believe in any. There are many options."

Except doing nothing. No. Even if Norah could not be fully empathic to the girl's sufferings, she did not agree with the mindset of "being a better person and standing above the evil". No one patted you on the head for doing that. Never.