Dragoncrest Cliffs The bottle stench may be here to stay
Sapphique
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#1
All Welcome 
She'd found her way down to the shoreline, where the sandy shore formed a thin line against the jagged cliffs and rocks that had tumbled from from the reaches in piles of massive boulders. The tide was out, s she searched for treasures along the shoreline, with the constant hush and hiss of the waves in her ears. Above her, gulls drifted on the wind and cried out every now and again; they had nests along the cliffs, but it was not yet time for them to lay eggs so they didn't seem too bothered by the wolf scavenging along the shoreline. 

She glanced up at them, and along with the rhythm of the waves that ebbed and flowed, she began to spin a song she knew- one she'd heard often enough as sung by her mother, in one of her two mother tongues. 

"Ti zwazo koté ou pralé?
Mwenn prale kay fiyét lalo,
Fiyét lalo k'on mangé ou tou-
si ou alé lap mangé ou tou!"


It was only half of the song, but she paused to look up the birds which continued to hang on the gales of air like kites; unimpressed by her singing, but at least she knew for herself that it was an accomplishment. It was the beginning of a discovery, too- that if she could sing, she could speak.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#2
I have been wanting to grab this but have been hesitant bc idk how their last one resolves ^^;  I guess we can wing it?  if that's fine with you!

As always, I can edit any assumptions that don't seem on par <3

The singing drew Rosalyn in from where she'd been napping, curled near the cliffs along the shore.  The sand was soft and the patch she'd found warmer with the sun.  She shook the grit out of her coat and strode closer, pricking her ears up to catch the latter half of the quiet tune.  She recognized Chacal's voice and froze, surprised... but she could not parse the words.  There'd been a time when Erzulie's language was at least in part known to her.. she'd picked up words, here and there, as the children did.  They'd fled of late, refusing to surface, and she listened silently as the song faded.

Erzulie had shared with her Chacal's inhibition in speech (and doubtless, Rosalyn had heard it herself on at least one occasion).  The fact that her daughter carried her spirit so well with it was a source of pride for the pirate.  It made it hard for them to connect, at times, especially when they argued (as recently).  But she'd done her best to be sure she was present, to pull her into play and what might turn into mercenary knowledge one day, should the girl choose to pursue that path.  

Still, as Chacal grew, perhaps distance had been inevitable.  Rosalyn did not have her wife's gift for understanding.

She approached Chacal slowly and sat down nearby.  That was beautiful.  Did maman teach you that? She asked, defaulting to the yes/no questions she usually did in the simpler talks.  The significance of the singing was lost on her because she could not tell if the words were right or not... but it wasn't often she was blessed with her daughter's voice at all, and the compliment did hold warm gratitude behind it, no matter the feelings between them right now.
Sapphique
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#3
I'm cool to wing it!

She'd finished her song before she caught sight of her mother, but Rosalyn was already striding down the beach toward her by the time Chacal caught sight of her. How loudly had she been singing? Was there a chance she'd been heard? Self-conscious, she began to meander along a ridge of sand, rocks and other ocean jetsam left behind by the tides as though to make it seem like she'd come down here for a purpose. She pawed at a strand of kelp that had begun to harden in the daylight, all the while keeping one ear flicked toward her mother as she approached. In the corner of her eye, she watched as her mother sat down. A conversation was inevitable; and she felt the pressure weighing down upon her. 

The question made her lips pull tight; she'd been heard. The tone of her mother's voice was soft and gracious; she felt as though she was being complimented, but she was a bit too flustered to accept it with much finesse. She swallowed hard, and nodded.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#4
She did not like this space, or the way Chacal seemed embarrassed by her attention.  It was a natural thing for children to outgrow their parents' praise, but she read something worse in her daughter's pose and the slant of her shoulders.  

Had she come here with something in mind to say?  If she had, it had fled.  That was likely for the best, from the closed-off expression that adorned Chacal's features.  Rosalyn took a few steps forward, allowing the water to lap at her paws for a moment.  Then, without turning, she posed a different question.  I've heard it a few times before, but I can't remember the words.  Can you teach me?  

A definitive olive branch alongside a silent plea.
Sapphique
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#5
She remained glued to the spot, secretly hoping that the tide might rush in and pull her away so she had an excuse to get some space for herself, and avoid the looming possibility that she might have to speak, now that her mother had heard her sing. And while Rosalyn moved toward the damp sand where the waves ebbed, she hadn't dismissed her daughter. She requested, as Chacal suspected she might, that Chacal sing again.

Part of her had known that this would draw interest- and it broke her heart to think that her worth might change simply because she'd found a way to get around her aphasia. She hadn't conquered it- no, she wasn't sure that was possible. Her mother wanted her to speak- but would it be the same to her, as having them swim the Seafoam Run? Could a wolf's worth be defined by a task like swimming or singing? 

She felt there was more to her than just being pushed to speak. She also felt as though she'd had to discover her voice on her own. So she heaved a sigh when she was asked to teach Rosalyn the song she'd sung, and she decided instead that she would sing the melody, of course, but with words that came from her. 

"Do you love me more if I sing?" Came her doleful voice.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#6
If she'd known what Chacal felt, maybe she could have done a better job alleviating her fears.  As it was, Rosalyn failed to realize that so much of her daughter's worth hung on her perceived rank... something that Rosalyn had cared about in her youth, but forgotten now.  Now her only desire was to lead her family's fate, and the rest that came with was meaningless.

Chacal was young and had a future to look towards.  Her mother had lost touch with this.

She waited, hoping that the invitation to share in something that the girl clearly enjoyed would open the doors that were shut.  Instead of the words she expected, though, Rosalyn instead received a message she could understand... and one that cut her deep.  She didn't understand it and for a moment stood still, confused, the ocean ice at her feet.

How could I?  She finally asked, turning finally to look at her.  I love you too much already.  

She felt strangely sad, a feeling that crept up in her throat and threatened for a moment to cut the words off.  What kind of mother was she, then, that she had to say it like that?  That she got a question like that?  The sorrow in Chacal's voice cracked the shattered mess of her recent heart even further.  Perhaps she was intruding... and maybe she should go.

I just want you to be happy, pajarita.  That's all I ever want.  And if that meant singing alone on the beach, then she'd acknowledge it.  She turned, intending to depart down the beach and leave her to her quiet.  Maybe another day they could sing together.
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#7
It wounded her to see her mother's eyes filled with pain. She was an empathetic creature, and while she still believed that her mothers were making decisions that Chacal didn't agree with, she knew they still cared. She shouldn't have questioned if her mother's love had anything t do with her needing to be able to communicate; she knew that Rosalyn adored her. She was simply exploring the reality of being able to communicate, and the difference it could potentially make in her life- but had to wonder, of course, if she would have been valued less if she had not found a way to be able to speak. She also felt as though she hadn't been helped, or pushed, to speak...And it was one thing, of course, to be accepted as she was- but another to not be challenged to do better. 

"Wait, Mama," She called out, in her birdsong voice when Rosalyn turned to leave. Her mother looked disappointed, dejected. That wouldn't do. Her mother was willing to turn her back on her daughter without, again, pushing her to explain herself. She wanted to be heard, and she wanted to be challenged. So she strode toward her mother with a proud step- moving with the confident, fluid gait she came by naturally. 

"I want to mean the same, whet'er or not I speak.
I do not want to feel like I am less, if I am silent."
 

She wove her melody from one line and on to the next; a half cadence eventually resolving to a complete one when she finished her statement, so that the melodic contour of her line suited the flow of the words she spoke, indicating that she was speaking a complete thought. She was quiet a moment, before she approached another subject. 

"I do not believe in de Seafoam Run.
I do not believe it is fair. 
Why should de sea choose who is fit to lead,
if not all can swim?"
She asked. She firmly believed that a wolf's ability to swim had next to nothing to do with their ability to help lead a pack. "I do not believe Njord any better than others just because he swim fastest. I do not believe Rav less worthy because he choose not to swim. He runs faster than me. Where is de difference?" 

"I was not worthy of de Seafoam run, at first-
Dis choice you made yourself.
When I am the only one,
who has not died, gotten lost, or run-
Why was I not worthy, of even trying to swim?"
She pleaded. She still felt as though despite being a dedicated member of the pack, she had been let down by being excluded from the Seafoam Run. All of her siblings had either run off, died, or gotten lost- so she thought it incredibly unfair that she should not be included in the first row of selected participants. 

"When you offered...It was pity." In changing their minds and in allowing all to participate, Chacal had thought that the change smacked of indecision, and that they'd modified their own rules after seeing how disappointed she was. She didn't want pity. She wanted equality. 

"Do you make de sea de one to choose a leader-
because you are not able to see worthiness yourself?"
She then asked calmly. "An' I ask you again; am I more worthy now because I can speak my thought?"
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#8
oops this thread got ahead of the other one... I had things drafted that might repeat XD I'll have to see

Rosalyn did not have the energy to push any further right now.  Another mother might have run to their child after a question like that, embraced them, assured them completely that they were loved and that all was well and that they were the single most important thing in the world.  Rosalyn had never had a mother like that, and all she did, she learned as she went.  From Reyes she'd learned to give space, but not too much... and still she could not discover the line.  Age and tragedy had sapped all of the strength from her bones of late and some days she struggled more than others to stand firm.

Chacal called her back before she could get very far and strode forward with confidence.  She stopped to listen and could at least admire that, though still the words attacked their decisions.  Their children sought many answers as to why they'd been deemed unworthy, yet did not seek to examine their own actions at all in the process.  She could feel the vague fog that could sometimes make plucking the right words hard at times, but she pressed it out, considering a moment longer to answer.

You are wrong.  It wasn't pity.  Rosalyn began, choosing to address the part that was easier.  It isn't only enough to win a race, as you have said.  So only the Rosada swim, as they have earned the right in the months before.  If you wish to earn that right, then perhaps look to care for rank before the time comes.  They had drawn battle lines and gone to war with their mothers over something meant to be a celebration, a bonding experience for the pack and a chance to prove themselves in a way that drew them closer to the culture of Sapphique.  How did she explain this?  Their backs were so raised against the very idea of the sea... and for what reason?  Why did he hate it so much?  Perhaps Erzulie would know - she should ask.

It is not a permanent rank, nor is it meant to be.  It is a chance for any member who works to be recognized, to compete and to become closer to both the sea and the pack.  Your mother and I do not need a third, yet we offer it.  And we do so in the way of our choosing, not yours.  She looked at Chacal, seeking any sign of understanding but expecting none.  She wasn't bending as she should, but she could not.  How is fear any less of a reason to deny someone the right than the inability to run or the inability to fight?  We chose a challenge that would pit the pack against the sea, not each other.  Yet it did a fine enough job of turning their remaining children against them.

You are no more worthy because you can speak.  You are less worthy, perhaps, because rather than celebrate the success of your family, you resent that it was not your own.  She hadn't meant for that to come out as harshly as it did, but despite the soft delivery, the words stood stark.  There was a lesson here that needed to be learned, Rosalyn thought, though she was fast losing patience in the teaching.  Her explanations were incomplete, following a thread like grasping at a spider's web on a windy day.
Sapphique
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#9
Totally fine. Things need to get repeated for them to sink in for kids, anyway, haha!

She wasn't sure she believed her mother when she was informed that they hadn't changed their minds because it'd become obvious that wolves other than those in the Rosada rank wanted to participate. Fluctuating the rules was something that Chacal perceived to be a weakness, when there was no rational explanation given. To her, it made no sense for them to offer the opportunity to wolves that they did not consider ready for leadership. If one of their newest members had won, then what was that to say about longevity and dedication? 

But as her mother explained, the temporary spot in the leadership, which would continue to be earned by swimming ability, was not exactly necessary. It wasn't needed, she said- but it was offered, like a gift. This she could understand; it was like being given the opportunity to try and see what leadership was like, without necessarily becoming a part of the permanent,  structural bones of the pack. That point hadn't really occurred to Chacal, who would have to agree that in terms of allowing pack members to feel important and valued, giving them a chance to make some executive decisions was a good way to earn trust and loyalty. She frowned, but she nodded slightly. 

But in being told she'd done herself a disservice, her eyes flashed. What her mother had said was hurtful, and she was wounded especially because the last thing she wanted was to be told that despite the fact she had overcome one of her biggest hurdles, it had turned out to become a detriment. "It is not that," Her voice rang out in despair, her melody wavering with emotion. She began to breathe harder. "I...try." She asserted. "I....Overcome. All on my own." She said bitterly. "I stan' wit my brother. I do not run off. I do as I am told. But I have so many questions." She breathed, exasperated. After all, her entire life had been filled with questions had not been asked, or answered. Now that she had the chance, she was beginning to discover just how much more complicated life could be with words.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#10
Rosalyn saw the hurt she'd wrought and took a step forward... but then stopped again.  This wasn't her barrier to overcome; she was not the one who had dug the valley that seemed to stretch between them.  And while it was her job to be the bigger one here, to construct the bridge, she couldn't banish the memory from her mind of Reyes pulling away.  A few weeks later at most and he was gone, never to be seen again.  

The ghost of it caught her and for a moment she almost broke, but she managed to stop it.  It wasn't often that the memory of the children they'd lost overwhelmed her, but the sorrow of it rode her just as well as it did Erzulie.  And on the occasions it came, it felt just as fresh as the day they'd left... though perhaps, in time, that would be taken from her as well.  

Fortunately she did not miss Chacal's words, the majority of them.  As always there was not a lot for her to catch.  Then ask them, Rosalyn answered, with emphasis.  She paused again, shutting her eyes, and let all thoughts of Reyes fade away.  She needed to solve this here, now.  More slowly, and with more patience than before, she continued.  

Your maman and I are proud of you, you and your brother, no matter what you do.  We only want you to be happy; silent or no, leader or no, even here or no.  We love you and will always try to understand, even if you cannot find the words, just so long as you try to ask.  But you have to try.  When you assume that we will not answer, or do not care, and you turn your back on us, we can do nothing.  Another step forward, cautiously.  We have always heard you.

They had done their best, since she was a child, and Rosalyn had grown accustomed in truth to the Chacal who did not speak.  Perhaps that was why she felt so hurt by this now; she'd been unprepared for her little bird to not only gain a voice, but to gain one that seemed to resent them so much and to accuse them of things that cut so deeply.  Her postures and her gestures, the sounds she had made... none of them had seemed to speak of the struggle she now laid at Rosalyn's feet.  So perhaps what truly hurt the most was that, in all of this, she had missed something so important.
Sapphique
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#11
It had felt like there was a lake full of water, pushing continuously at a dam that only let a few small trickles through at any point in time. But the pressure had built up until finally, something had let go, and she learned what it was to have both the freedom and the heavy responsibility of communicating verbally. The more her mother explained, the more she felt this newfound wave of pressure flow through her, and out of her. She was being invited to speak, and when Rosalyn convinced her that she'd been heard all along and took a step toward her, Chacal broke- and dashed toward her mother. 

She was not a child anymore, and could no longer wind her way into her mother's embrace by snaking beneath her limbs but she pressed against her mother's chest and nuzzled her muzzle into the fur of her shoulder regardless. Her breath hitched as she leaned against her mother, and she felt herself experience regret, for having been so obstinate. "I am sorry, I am sorry," She recited, to the tune of a lullaby, as though that might serve to put their conflict to rest.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.
Fear is the heart of love
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#12
Despite the struggle with which she put them forth, apparently these words broke through.  Rosalyn felt her weariness expounded in relief as Chacal finally broke her distance and came to her.  She pulled her into the embrace and returned it, hugging her tightly as best she could despite the fact she was perhaps the taller of the two now.

I'm sorry too, she breathed.  Not for the slights perceived on the beach but for the other deeper ones; that Chacal was ever led to doubt their love for her, that she apparently struggled silently alone.  To the pirate, a quiet wolf was a happy wolf, and she had nearly realized the box she'd painted her daughter into too late.

It was time to re-evaluate her assumptions then.  If she wished to speak, wished to lead, then Rosalyn would help her.  Because if she wanted it - truly wanted it - then she was more deserving than the rest.  And Rosalyn would see her on that path.

Now, will you remind me the words to the song?  Though yours were lovely, I think perhaps they don't suit me.  She smiled, and with the touch of humor hoped to move forward now.
Sapphique
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#13
She'd not considered how much stress an apology might lift; but she felt herself settle against her mother when they had both forgiven each other, and heave a sigh that rid her aching chest of the hard lump of resentment she'd been harboring. She would try to remember this, and to learn that with the use of language she would also have to learn discipline, and how to speak without creating unnecessary tension. She had much to learn from both of her mothers, it seemed- but she had full faith that they could teach her what she needed to know. 

So when she was asked to teach her mother the song again, she pulled back and smiled. There were tears in her eyes, but happy ones. "It is a funny song," She sang, "But I will teach it to you...And then tell you what de words mean," She said. So she began, line by line, to go through the lyrics and melody with her mother- and giggled afterwards when she explained the silly story about Lalo and Lalo's child-eating habits.
It can be assumed that if Chacal is speaking, she will be singing. Her speaking patterns will always have a melodic quality to them.