Dragoncrest Cliffs butterfly wings

At last, after many hours over many days of practicing, Sobo had caught one of the little birds that frequented Bluepeace Meadow.

He held the plump white ptarmigan aloft in his muzzle and his gait was proud as he trotted toward the lake. It wasn't a clean capture. The breast was crumpled in where panicked jaws had clapped on it and blood decorated the soft white plumage, but it was enough of a feat that he had managed to catch one.

When he first saw @Chacal do it, he thought it was impossible. There had to be a trick. Now he saw how perseverance and patience paid off and he was eager to find and show her the fruits of his labor. Chacal still made him nervous, particularly now with her new position, but with time he was warming, and eventually he would be able to greet her the same as he did his littermates and mothers.

erzulie wondered if some part of her lived in fear for the day that her sons would disperse. her daughters might well stay. but she wondered if like njord, loko and sobo would want other things. she could not blame them for it, if it came to that day. 
when she had traversed from the sound back to the cliffs, she sought her second boy and was pleased to find his trail leading inland. more settled than roaming sobo. maybe it was the fact that they no longer searched for mireille.
she came up beside him, butting him lightly along his cheek. "bon lachas." erzulie passed her gaze out over the lake.

It was not musical Chacal who came out of the woods to stride with him, but his flaxen-haired mother with a note of praise that made his heart soar. He smiled around the ptarmigan, finding joy where lately there had only been worry and now strife.

Manman, he said once he had deposited it to the ground and turned to face the lake as she did. I watched Chacal catch one of dese. I t’ought it must be impossible! Majik, he added. Den I caught one and now I know it is not. But dere do be majik, aye, manman?

He thought of the Listener. The memory of her face still unsettled him. She was of another world, he felt. Da loa, can ya tell me more about dem?

"mmm."
the sound was low-pitched and brown-sugar sweet.
"maybe it was de spirits. what we call majik. forces beyond our t'oughts." her eyes were soft.
"my son sobo wants to know about de loa."
erzulie grinned and pulled away, pushing debris and snow from a small space along the shore. clawmarks ensued; the rough shape of a veve took shape.
"we say loa but de original sound is lwa." she said it twice more, pausing each time for sobo to listen. "dere be hundreds of lwa. all dese names be sacred but not all of dem be known."
"dis be a veve. each lwa be havin' dey own veve. you draw dem before a ritual. dese marks are dey representative for de lwa you be wantin' to speak wit."
"dis one be for de lwa of femininity. water. erzulie be her name."
a grin, a chuckle.
she drew another veve. "dis be for de one called damballah. sky father. sky serpent. first creator. you speak to him wit de voice of a snake."
"often erzulie only be comin' to women. an' damballah only be comin' to men. de lwa are divided by energies. but to speak at all, you be needin' to know bot.'"

Sobo peered over Erzulie's shoulder at the blank earth canvas, watching her deft work. If he knew the word for it, he would have identified it as a rough heart shape. Lwa, he repeated after his mother. It was almost the same as the word he and his siblings knew, but the inflection was subtly different. From now on he would say it properly.

Erzulie explained the purpose of the veve. Sobo wondered if it was possible to speak to the lwa without one or if a random one might respond without their specific mark to call them. These questions and more crowded the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. Manman had more to tell.

He looked up, shocked, when his mother revealed that she shared the lwa's name. Did that mean she was blessed by the lwa of femininity? Maybe, he thought, that was the reason Sapphique was so central on the feminine. It certainly made a lot of sense in his head.

Erzulie drew another shape. Only when she mentioned serpents did Sobo realize the wavy lines did resemble snakes. Damballah was the lwa who came to men. Was it he who had led Sobo to the island where Mireille was, or some other force entirely? He thought of The Listener and knew now she could not be a loa, but something else.

How can a man know Erzulie if she be comin' only ta women? he wondered, swallowing all his other queries for now.

it was a good question. "you should know her name. she might come to you here. in dis place. but she will not choose to be your lwa." erzulie tipped her face up into the breeze. "you know her t'rough t'ings of beauty. purple. pink. leave beautiful objects inside her veve. she will give some message to you."
the obsidian was pleased that her son was taking such a concrete interest in these old ways.
"look to storms for your rituals. sometimes when de sea an' de rain be risin', dat be when de power is most fierce. but be careful. de win' will not be kin' if you are reckless."
"if you seek peace, look for still days wit' as much sun as you can. dis favours de lwa of warmt' an' light." she paused, glancing toward sobo.

Oh, Sobo replied, not quite understanding what she meant. Was that how the lwa worked? Sobo always believed that he could show gratitude and seek knowledge from all lwa, so the idea that one might choose him specifically was new. It put a wild little thrill in him; what lwa would choose him if he opened himself to it?

Erzulie instructed him further and Sobo felt himself chill a little. He was loathe to admit it out loud, but he really didn't like storms. Thunder claps shook him to his core and lightning flashes imprinted jagged lines in his vision that glared red on the inside of his eyelids. The only redeemable quality of storms was the rain, but it was impossible to enjoy that when everything else about them was so wild and violent.

What lwa do you t'ink be dere where de sea is black and feels wrong? He still had a hunch that The Listener was some kind of lwa given mortal form, so his question meant to carry him a little closer to the truth of Blackwater. If anyone would know, it was Erzulie.

"agwé," she answered without hesitation. "he married to mami wata an' erzulie." she laughed a bit, humming beneath her breath. "he lives in de water. he knows what happens inside it — all of it."
she flexed her paws against the ground and sighed, leaning into a brief wind which had risen.
"what do you mean to do wid dese teachin's, sobo?" she asked in a tone which retained its warmth even as it grew solemn and contemplative.

Agwé. Was there a named lwa for everything? Sobo thought not. He didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that some lwa were married to others, possibly multiple others, but stored it away for future reference. Knowledge was knowledge, even if it seemed irrelevant at the time.

Even de darkest, deepest parts? he wondered. The sea around Blackwater wasn’t so deep, but there was something foreboding about it. It wasn’t in his nature to be suspicious, but Sobo found the whole thing unsettling. The longer he was away from that island and the more he thought about it, the stronger that sentiment became.

Erzulie wanted to know what he meant to do with her teachings. He gave a broad shrug, genuinely unsure. I just be curious, I guess, he said. De dream dat showed Mireille to me, I t’ought maybe dat be de lwa.

she nodded. "even de dark parts of de sea have a lwa looking over dem. it just may be dat to answer your questions about de place, dey be askin' more. even blood at times." she listened to him speak, a fond light entering her eyes. 
"i t'ink it be de same. you know, dey do not speak in my dreams." she studied her son. "i t'ink it be meanin' you are destined for somet'ing nei'ter of us yet understand. listen an' be ready."
the seawife rolled her shoulders. "shall we go an' fin' a meal? i want to show you de bluefish on de lef' side of de beach," she offered, swinging her tail once affably/

This looked like a perfect spot to conclude, hope that's alright!

Blood? A light shiver went down Sobo's spine. He couldn't know for sure, but if that was the price exacted by the lwa of the darkest seas, it could explain why Blackwater made him feel so uneasy.

It be only one dream, he objected, and not since. Even though it was two separate nights, it felt like the same dream spanning both, so it would be unfair to say he had heard the lwa twice. It was some small touch of unworthiness that made him suspect it would be the first and last time. What had he ever done to deserve an honour like that?

He said no more on the subject, but wagged his tail at the mention of food. Oui, maman, he crooned, setting their pace at an eager trot for the seaside. I be starvin'!