Dragoncrest Cliffs ma lanmè

the door to the spirit-world had been open for a time after his brush with death beneath the waves. they'd called upon him in dreams—and sometimes even in waking moments—but had slipped away;

and now. . .the ancestors had not graced him with their presence in some time.

he'd hoped that returning to sapphique's territory would bring them back to him, since he'd spent so much time at the inland gathering. perhaps they saw it as a betrayal. but no—only silence following his comeback.

lafayette sat morosely upon the precipice of one of the shorter cliffs along the seashore, the drop to water just a few wolf-lengths down from where he stood. still, the waves churned against jagged, submerged rock; it was undoubtedly a dangerous plunge, should he take it.

but would they speak to him again, if so? high risk, high reward.

he wondered what @Lucette would think of it all.

Tysm for starting <3

The tides of Sapphique were ever-shifting, but never carried Lucette far from Lafayette; she was always near, always watching over her twin as if through a veil. Where he had been unwillingly shut of the world of spirits, she had never truly left it. Yet she remained — one of the living, but hardly among them. Reality, she often thought to herself, felt unreal.

But her dreams felt real.

She'd spoken little of them even to her twin, and not at all to the others. They would never understand.

Silently she slid into place at Lafayette's side, following his gaze to the sea. In that moment she, too, wondered at the risks and rewards of such a leap — but her own musings were fanciful, impossible. Lucette thought not of hearing but becoming: feral and unmoored and fearless on the waves. Something like a dream she'd had.

he was so accustomed to lucette at his side that he assumed she was there all along; her sudden presence did not surprise him one bit. the boy turned to his twin and smiled, pressing his muzzle against her shoulder before looking out to the sea again.

the two fiery-pelted youngsters had experienced their fair share of the world at the great gathering, and now they were home—and he was glad for it. and if they truly shared the same brain, lafayette assumed she was glad for it, too.

what you be t'inkin', luce? he asked lucette, his countenance pensive.

T'inkin' dat I understan' de dead better den de livin', Lucette was morose; thoughtful but resentful of her thoughts. She'd only rarely spoken this way to Lafayette before. I be hearin' dem all de time now. In my dreams I t'ink I see de lwa.

But she did not hear them, not the way she heard the whisperings of what could only be long-dead souls. Lucette knew none of them; she didn't care to know them. They held no power over her, only the ability to plead day and night for some kind of favor. She was practiced, by now, at blinding herself to any empathy that was not tied to her twin.

post #100 for you, twinnie <3

he was beginning to glance elsewhere when lucette spoke, and his head whipped quickly back toward her, eyes widening.

you see lwa in your dreams? lafayette asked, voice reverent. i be seein' 'em too, lucette. an' ot'er ancestors of ours.

i be hearin' dem all de time.

what do dey say t'you, luce? he went on. so amazed was he by this common ground—but then, of course! they were twins; they shared everything. if the spirits spoke to one, they would undoubtedly have spoken to the other.

his heart was racing, but a pleased smile was arcing across his muzzle, too.