Dragoncrest Cliffs i told you don't cuss at me!

MAAAAAA @Erzulie pls when you're free :D

he had decided for himself something worth sharing with his maman.

then, he figured, he might start sharing it more! but the word cropped up nearly every day in his vocabulary when talking to others or retelling his tales of the coast.

so as he approached his mother with a wide grin on his face, he offered a respectful question.

you be too busy for me?

erzulie looked toward her buoyant son as she put forepaws into the icy surf at their hidden beach. she did not halt her daily swimming, not for any weather.
"not at all, quen. you comin' wit me?" she paced slowly until the water reached her shoulders, hardly wincing at the sting now that it had been so many years.

by virture of who was his mother, and the place he was raised, he did not balk at her cold swim.

aye! he barked warmly as he wadded in with her. i be wantin' to talk. i been doin' some thinkin'. although his voice conveyed nothing negative at all.

the opposite!

quennell had adopted rosalyn's speech, and reyes'. and perhaps there was a little njord there as well. erzulie closed her eyes fondly as the waves lapped beneath her chin; she lifted off the sandy floor and began a lazy paddle beside her son. "tell me what be on your mind, oursin lanmè mwen an."

they moved, cold waves smoothing cinnamon coats.

i be thinkin of piratin'. like really. now he fell silent against the water. yellow gaze occasionally drifted towards his mother, then back out towards their path.

piratin'.
"your maman rosalyn be de fierces' pirate i ever saw." a wave lashed her face; she shut her eyes in time and shook the water out of her eyes before she went on. "but it be dangerous, quennell. what do you be knowin' about it?" her voice was not stern; it remained conversational despite the cold clench in her gut that was not oceansalt.

i do be meaning to talk to 'er.

she, of all, would know that he deferred to the women in his life first. always. his mothers, his sisters. nothing he did was without some thought of them.

i wandered de coast, y'know. charmed a lady who wanted to bite my nose. fought off a sea monster. yet he knew it would not always be so easy. so wonderful.

erzulie chuckled. "charmin' ladies already? of course you be! why did she want to nip your nose." but she was amused despite herself. she arced back to where her claws just touched the ocean's floor. "an' dis sea monster? let's hear of it." erzulie's eyes glowed with pride. "how far down de coas' did you go?"
she was proud. and still the fear remained.

i be makin' sure she not dead! but we get along better now. he assured her, a wave of his tail beneath the water. coldness lapping at his chin.

de sea monster be ugly. nasty. made of thick, pale kelp. i scare 'im off with birds. was that the truth? it mattered not when he told the tale each time. such was his life of pirating.

beyond sea lions, to a bay. de land is open for plundering! i want to be big, maman! he called over the water. laughter bubbled forth from him.

a kind heart, seeking a stranger's health. a brave boy, fighting an enemy of kelp. she did not question the birds, for between gulls and taloned types she had experienced enough.
but the bay! and surely it was the same?
the ocean was in all veins and tissues of her son. she saw it now, same as her daughters and yet different. where the sea made a home for the women of sapphique, the waves led their men away.
the fear turned now to wistfulness.
"you will be, quen. de bes' pirate de shores have ever seen." would he stay through the winter? erzulie waited for him to say.

i be goin' by quen now too. to all.

he loved his name, he treasure those that gave it to him. yet he had grown accustomed to the unruly quen rather than the proper son that was quennell.

islands nearby, but it be cold now to swim so far. perhaps a kind, soft way to volley the idea of not being here. at least not all the time.

quen, not quennell. another change and one erzulie must accept. "it be very cold," she said, letting out her breath. "do you be speakin' of de islands once known as blackwater?"
her eyes met his own. "if so, i will tell you what i knew of dem, when dey walked t'ere."

de gone? y'know, sacrarium is too.

he had not meant to turn this into some sort of rogue ranger conversation, but here they were. no place he would rather be in that moment.

the waves drifted him alongside his mother.

she nodded. "sapphique alone stands on de shore." they had always been isolated and had preferred it that way. but this was a younger leadership and quennell too, perhaps he desired allies.
"blackwater had much healin' but did dark magick, in de water. it is what i t'ink, not what i know. but mireille, coraline, an' sobo: all went. all felt it, de energy of dat place."

alone.

he did not know what he made of the thought. good and bad in equal turns. he supposed as long as sapphique was happy and thrived, it mattered not what company the coast kept.

as for blackwater — if his siblings had told him tales, he remembered not.

it was the first time he felt some sort of inkling of real fear. worry. concern.

dread was perhaps the most fitting word.

i dun t'ink i be wantin' to see such a dark place. he confessed somberly. a wayward glance at his mother.

she nodded, chin in the water. "i t'ink dat be a good t'ing indeed."
for the moment, erzulie ceased her words. she took a breath and disappeared beneath the surface, cutting around quennell like a seal before she reappeared on his other side.
"what should you do if you be out swimmin' an' get caught in de undertow?" she asked at last, quizzing him a little. if he meant to be off on his own, he must keep himself safe.

his mother disappeared, sleek as a seal. then reappeared just as quickly. this time on his other side.

she quizzed him!

if you a good swimmer, you be swimmin' de edge o' it. 'long de current. o'terwise you best be hopin' dat you can outlast its run.

a grim reality, but he cherished his knowledge of the sea and all of its ways.

he knew, he knew. erzulie nodded and asked no more. she only pushed a wave at him now, then circled, chuckling, seeing how fast he was in the water itself.
it had been known to take even hardened pirates. she would not let this be his fate.

fade? <3

his mother tested him in other ways now.

he did not mind the way she sent waves his way, or when the water splashed up over his chin. across his face like a baptism. like the sea approved of his knowledge, his wariness of her being.

he would play along and solidify the things he had been taught by his seafaring mothers.