Seaside Moors why did i call again,
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Ooc — ebony
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All Welcome 
when u have time!<3

the rain had ceased over a week ago. erzulie stood in the middle of the moors with silent @Chacal. she had brought their youngest back for a short patrol, and now looked to the sea.
there was a new emptiness in the harlot, and the knowledge of ocean-water so close did nothing to persuade it aside.
could rusalka stay within the moors? should they return? she rolled her shoulders, nudged the little girl. "you be rememberin' dis place, i hope."
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Sapphique
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#2
Curiously, Chacal followed along with her mother, and for the greater part of their voyage the little shadow followed like a duckling toddling after its mother, though occasionally she would bound from her mother's side to chase a butterfly, only to scamper back to her mother's side if a frog croaked too loudly at her. She watched as the skies changed above them, clouds passing by harmlessly after having blocked her view of the blue sky for so long. She craned her neck back as they passed below trees, only to notice that some of the leaves had begun to change in hue, albeit faintly. She did not know to associate it with the dawning cool that stole its way through the night, but she would find out soon enough. 

When she caught the first trace of brine on the air, though, her attention focused, and she hastened her pace to stride at her mother's shoulder, eyes scanning out over the terrain which looked as though it had been carved by waves, and left with rolling pickets of land, prickled with lavender bushes. She took a few steps forward even after her mother halted, the nudge to her shoulder an encouragement, though she needed no further urging. Like a sleepwalker caught in a dream, she paused and leaned forward, as though drawn toward the land which she recognized. At first, she simply stared out into the moors, noticing how they had changed slightly- the colour of the grass, the hue of the sky, the way the sea lavender's flowers had hidden away. 

She heard something in her mind- it was her mother's voice. A familiar lullaby, with legato, swooping motifs punctuated by a few sparse articulations making the lullaby sound both loving and coy at the same time. She could hear the melody in her head but flicked her ears forward and back when she realized that she could actually hear the melody; unwittingly, the child had begun humming, and had lilted her way perfectly through a verse before she realized that the music was coming from her own vocal chords. She shocked herself into silence and froze.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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#3
erzulie, if she must choose, knew in this moment that the moors had failed as their homestead when nieve had never returned and raleska had only come back after her children had been born. but she had come back, the harlot reminded herself. golden-child nieve — it had been unlike her to depart abruptly, and at last erzulie allowed herself to contemplate a worst fate for the yearling than she had considered before.
but she was not long for it! a sound, downy and new-fledged; a swell of notes followed by the pattern of lyrical imprint. a smile, rounding her cheeks until they bore proudly the tears that had rushed to the mismatched gaze.
chacal had never before spoken; she was silent in a household of many tongues. but now erzulie saw that her worry had not been necessary, and, grinning, she picked up the next verse in her own rum-sweet tones, encouraging her youngest daughter with a nudge of her cinnamon muzzle.
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Sapphique
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It took Chacal a few moments to settle down, following the odd sensation in her throat, and how it had coincided with the sound of a voice she'd never heard before. Ears twitching, she snapped her gaze here and there, her breath stilling for a moment as she craned to listen should the melody begin once more- and when it did, it was in an octave and timbre both familiar and beloved.

She tilted her head back to look up at her Maman, and a feather smile softened her features. She blinked her eyes slowly, like a cat enjoying a spot of sunshine, as though to say ah; it was you. A gentle touch to her shoulders caused the child to close her eyes and lilt from side to side, listening with silent contentment as her mother hummed a verse of the lullaby. While she didn't start to hum again herself, she'd unknowingly begun to mirror each intake and exhale of breath that her mother took, and leaned into the beginning of every phrase with a small dip of her muzzle, like a conductor cueing an orchestra.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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#5
a musical child then. erzulie marvelled at all of chacal as the child moved beneath the gentle touch of twined notes and an old, old melody. when the jezebel had finished, she kissed her daughter between the downy ears, exclaiming beneath her breath in a blend of the first tongues she had known.
she was no longer worried that no words would come to chacal, for the the artistry of song was all the exemplified gifts that the season's last child would need. healer, pirate, and now creator of arias; chacal had never ceased to be a wondering glitter in the eyes of her maman.
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Sapphique
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Chacal stilled as the final wave of her mother's subtle vibrato faded into silence, waiting, hoping for it to continue. Her mother reached out to preen the fur at the top of her head and like always, she leaned into her mother's gentle, loving touch. She, however, wasn't completely satisfied with just that, though, and so she leaned back, tilting her head up to look at her mother with a restless gaze. While she would generally chatter her teeth together as an indication of hunger or want, she chose instead to stare at her mother for a moment- before she blew a few puffs of air through her lips, making a soft pff pff pff sound. She jerked her nose upwards three times, the way a conductor will give their baton a brief twirl to fetch the attention of his orchestra- hoping to cue her mother into singing the song again for her. Once was never enough.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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#7
so commanded, so charmed, erzulie gave a light laugh of surprise. "it be like dat, eh?" she teased back toward her youngest. chacal's silence seemed not so daunting now; the babe was more than able to convey what she wished, in a flourish specifically for her own desires.
she began the song once more, relaxing into the familiar notes. at one time, this had been a melody strummed into her young ears by marie, an aria to delight erzulie, bring laughter, prepare her for what was to come. there had been no fear in marie, she recalled now; no fear, and no desire to teach it.
erzulie shut her eyes, willing away the memories gathering frayed and lacework against her voice.
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Sapphique
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She'd made her mother's eyes sparkle with her request- which meant that her Maman understood what it was that she wanted her to do. When she began to hum again, Chacal relaxed, turning her head forward and leaning against her mother's chest so that she could feel the vibrations. Again, she gestured gently with her muzzle, dipping it to cue phrases, and the more she relaxed, and matched her breath with her mother's, she finally began to hum again herself- this time, humming along with her mother. Her voice was an octave higher, but sweet and clear, birdlike. The vibrations from her own chest blended with the ones from her mother, so she was soothed, oblivious to the fact that her mother was not the only one singing as she was too lost in the listening experience. 

Her mouth parted softly, as they made their way through the verse again, and with whispering movements, formed soft, nearly unintelligible lyrics. "Maman li pa la, l'alé la riviere, Maman li pa la, l'alé la riviere," The words weren't necessarily correct- but the second time she sung them, they were much clearer. Without any acknowledgement of what she'd done, she resumed humming the rest of the song, calm and content as a snake charmed by the melody.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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#9
the little gestures that chacal continued to make sheared the landscape from around mother and child as they sang together. and for the first time to erzulie's ear, the soft-spoken jackal spoke her first. when the babe trailed into humming, the harlot drew her closer for a more snug embrace, joining her own low whisper to the notes chacal had set. a moment of great power, something tasting lightly of rum and the scent of herbs hanging in the hot air of evening, waves lapping a salt shore she would never again see.
"chante zwazo." whatever loa had blessed her, the woman was grateful indeed, for the veve and the verve of the music in chacal. she would want for nothing, and erzulie at once saw the future unscroll before her.
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Sapphique
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#10
Whether or not Chacal was aware that she was doing what she was doing, she didn't seem to show any signs that she was surprised by her own vocalizations, as she had been moments ago. However, once the song finished, she slipped back into her silent, but content realm, and looked up at her mother's praise with a soft smile, tail wriggling against her hip. She understood what her mother had told her- but she did not feel obliged to answer with words. It simply didn't occur to her to use them the way the rest of her family did. 

She leaned against her mother's side gently, and tilted her head back again, leaning the side of her muzzle into the fur of her mother's shoulder and gazing up at her with half-closed, loving eyes. She huffed a soft sigh, and licked her lips slightly, blinking slowly as a cat might when it is happy.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
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#11
fade & have another? <3

music calmed whatever loa inside chacal had inspired her voice to only come with song. erzulie dropped her muzzle, kissed the small face until the last of her trepidation had been driven out and away.
in time, the harlot settled herself along the small silent girl, jaws parting in a long yawn that surrendered her to the constant fatigue that seemed to have crept into her bones as of late.
or perhaps that was only the impending winter.
erzulie rolled to one hip against the earth, invited chacal beneath a raised forearm to doze in the soft hours left to them.
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Sapphique
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#12
...and another and another and another, please <3

Like a ribbon of silk gliding over smoothe skin, Chacal sank at her mother's side, curling herself warm and tight against the caramel waves of fur that lilted slightly on the soft breeze. With a content sight, she nuzzled her muzzle into her mother's fur, and as she slid her eyes closed, she made soft suckling noises- a habit of some residual nursing instinct- before she slipped into slumber with the same grace of the sun rising gently over the horizon.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.