Dragoncrest Cliffs may queen ode

it isn't without some reservations that Avicus comes here. she'd left brief word upon her departure, but her grief and rage had choked her to the point that words—and she isn't good at those, anyway—could not properly depict the situation.

she is stronger, now. physically and mentally. she drags along the haunch of a mule deer that had perished in a snowstorm, subsequently buried under the cold expanse. it had frozen, preserving the meat.

it is a gift. . .and an apology.

she'd promised to help, right? when they had helped her. in her eyes, Avicus had failed, and unlike so many that had done her wrong, she had received nothing but kindness from the wolves of Sapphique. the guilt gnawed at her every bone, and she had vowed to come back.

she places the limb upon the frozen ground and calls out, the distant roar of the sea pulsing as one with the beat of her heart. 

if they will not be packmates, perhaps they can be allies.

rosalyn and sobo had gone to look.
chacal had not yet returned.
her body churned with confusion and that damnable warmth.
erzulie was not herself when she came upon avicus. her face was drawn and her fur disarrayed from long days of fruitless searching. 
"it is good to see you back." and with a great lot of meat. it reminded the obsidian that they had not hunted for some time. her eyes were questioning beneath the relief and affection.
she had heard much howling in the world beyond sapphique. had one of those voices belonged to the red wolf?

Avicus isn't ignorant to the changes in Sapphique's leader. her eyes fill with something akin with concern, and she dips her head in the deepest respect, then pushes the haunch forward with her nose. it's the whole thing, flank to hoof, and she hopes the pack can make use of it.

i y—hhleft you, help my frien', she recounts, staring at a fixed point upon Erzulie's cheek. whih' woman—bigh whih' woman—kill my ma.

rage suffuses her features, her gaze burning dark in a hollowed face. i wih'll kill her now, Avicus says, and it's as much a promise to herself as to the woman before her. me an' my pacgkh.

she lets out a deep exhale and pretends not to smell the meat-scent rising up, slowly thawing before them.

be careful, she warns. whih' womanh. . .kill. coul' kill your fami'y. ih—ihhh alive.

erzulie accepted it all, the food, the explanation. the passion of the vibrantly-furred girl filled her own heart. avicus had always belonged here in this place of women. but it sounded as though she had found her own world.
a white woman, large. the obsidian nodded. "i will know her when i see her." she faced into the fires of the younger wolf's eyes.
"tell me about your pack," she invited, voice inviting but dulled by her own grief. she wished to be joyous for avicus. but even if she could not yet muster it, the other had her support.

their voices are both filled with pain. it weighs heavy between them, the source of Erzulie's still yet unknown to Avicus but familiar all the same. she exhales slightly, casting her head toward which she came, just to the southeast.

bloodh, she says briefly, face serious. will kill her. hhlivee free. hunnhh'. kill.

words couldn't express it. it's the way of the wolves, and though she knows Erzulie understands, her brand of primal energy goes beyond what words can describe.

ah— ah-hlly. you. your packgh. friens'.

and she means it. Avicus watches the woman, insistent on understanding. she will not harm Sapphique, no, and she wishes desperately for their support.

erzulie listened carefully. hunt. kill. a score to be settled. this she understood, and lashed her plume in understanding. 
erzulie placed a paw over the offering.
"allies."
friends. it amused her in a way: sapphique had never needed such before, tucked so far against the coast. and they did not need them now.
but erzulie wanted them. "we will be companions to you an' yours."

the pact thus sealed, Avicus relaxes even more in the company of not just a familiar face, but an ally. a friend. she hasn't had many of those in life, and while she'll never have the sort of sentimentality toward friendships as others might, the concept is no doubt a benefit.

to have friends at her side, at her back—she'll need every last one of them.

and she's never been, either, the type to pick up on emotions, but Erzulie's body language speaks louder than any words. how ihh' your pack? she asks softly, indigo gaze sweeping across the forest behind them in illustration.

erzulie could not help the hard look of grief which passed over her features for a moment. "my daughter, mireille. she was swept — away. after de las' storm." she faced avicus now, refusing to weep.
tears meant that her hope was gone. and for now it was still present within her, fierce, defiant.
a land of women who had lost a daughter of the sea.
"so we have been searching for her. i t'ink she may have been taken. it has been ten days."
or was she only in denial?
erzulie did not tell avicus of rosalyn's lapses, her slipping. they were friends, but she saw no reason to give away sapphique's shifting.

MEEE-RAAYYYY!

she remembers the cry in the marsh, and her eyes sharpen, though she's quick to subdue the look in case Erzulie takes false hope within it. she has not seen the girl, merely heard the name.

a boy near my pack, calling 'hat name, Avicus explains. blackgh. yourhh—your boy?

the red girl shakes her head, sincerely sorry. i have nohh'. . . her voice dies out. the woman will know what she means. she wished there were better news to give.

need another after she & roz get back to sapphique!

erzulie's gaze warmed. "sobo be havin' my dark points. he be one of my sons from dis year." it heartened her to know that he had been looking for his sister. "she will come home. all my children be leavin' early an' returning later."
the words felt desperate and disingenuous in her mouth.
"i need to return to de search," erzulie murmured, a note of apology in her voice. "maybe after all dis, i will come an' visit you." she would wait for a nod or show of assent, reaching to touch avicus' shoulder gently before she turned and peeled back into the wildpines.

a familiar gut punch, as she realizes she'd done the same to Astara. and now. . .

well, it can't be helped, now. Astara is dead and she'd made her choices. Avicus swallows through an uncustomary lump of empathy rising in her throat; she feels for Erzulie, truly feels.

and she hates it.

she nods at the parting words, relieved to have an out. do, Avicus says simply. g'bye, 'Ulie.

the two part.