Sail

Eris Eternity · 01-10-2012, 06:44 PM

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Eris is by me!

Many things had been stripped from the dark woman in life. She had lost her material possessions in Eterne, along with that false pedestal she'd been stood upon like some symbol of salvation for the Kimaris family. The dark-hued woman knew loss, oh, she did -- but what were these things when compared with the loss of a child? She should have expected it, knowing not all children survive to adulthood. Not all of her half-brothers and half-sisters had, after all -- Kaena's elder children had died in droves, it seemed, and her own Andrezej litter-brother had been cut down at such a young age.

Expect it she did not, and prepare for it -- how does one prepare for the loss of a child? One cannot prepare for the unthinkable -- parents were supposed to outlive their children, and yet Eris had suffered through the loss of three of them. Wretch, Shibboleth, and Solanaceae. Solanaceae had been cut down in healthful youth by a feline. Perhaps Shibboleth was too ill from birth to be considered truly and wholly alive, but... well, Eris had considered her living. Eris had brought a breathing body into this world, and she had sent it out in a puff of smoke and a burst of flame. Wretch had been stolen in youth, and part of Eris had truly believed her dead. Why would the pale girl not return, if she were alive? In founding Salsola, the dark-hued woman considered her pale daughter might return to Anathema and look for her parents. Whether Anathema would send the youth on to Salsola was another question entirely.

The expanse of sparsely-forested marsh, with its dying tall grasses, seemed utterly barren to the dark-furred woman. Eris did not scent Salvia with the wind's direction, nor did she hear the huntress's approach, so skillful was her daughter at these arts of silence and stealth. Even if the Auxiliary had been fully aware of her surroundings, it was unlikely she would have realized Salvia's presence anyway. Eris was not particularly adept at the wild world, and her skills of tracking, hunting, scenting, and all relevant ones were far below her beautiful blonde daughter's. She was thankful Salsola remained unaware of her shortcomings, for the dark-hued woman had spent long nights wondering whether they would follow one perceived as useless.

Then again, she was not entirely useless. Charisma was a skill and talent as any other, gifted to some and withheld entirely from others. One could not look upon fearsome Janos or gruff Miqui and say either possessed any charismatic sway. Eris, on the other hand, had a way with words, and, of course, far more importantly -- she had her ways with the spirit world and the realms of magic and power. Salvia might be huntress extraordinaire, but her spirit was dim and dark, blinded to this otherworld the dark-hued coyote sensed even without her entheogens. Eris, unlike her daughter Salvia, practically vibrated with the power contained within her. Her own aura would be bright and as brilliant yellow-green as her eyes, perhaps even the same color.

The pale coyote she saw before her had no such aura, but the coyote woman knew it was there, all the same. Her own aura was visible only with the aid of those eye-opening substances, the things she put into her body to better connect her with the spiritual otherworld. It was likely the same with this one. Few were powerful enough to show her their true strength without such chemicals to aid her visions, though Eris supposed there were those out there who had better natural sight than she. After all, there were varying degrees of everything -- why should she be surprised to discover power greater than her own?

She had feared such in Siv upon first meeting the silver-tinged woman, but Eris did not now know what to make of the dark stranger. Eris had accepted the woman to Salsola for her apparent power and skill, and she had not regretted it yet. Still, something of a quiet alarm rang in Eris at every thought of the pack's new Associate and her strange, mute daughter, whom Eris had not seen since accepting the pair into the pack and taking on their gift. The creature had provided a meal for Eris, and she'd ordered Molcaxitl to preserve some of the meat with her salts and smokes for the pack's storage purposes. It had served Eris personally and Salsola as a whole; why should the dark-furred woman scorn a gift of practicality in favor of shiny trinkets?

Wretch spoke, the womanly voice of a stranger, and Eris's face fell. Her ears flickered back and her eyes widened in surprise. Though the dark woman willed herself to stay in place, she took a few halting, hesitant steps toward the pale girl, the frown written plainly across her muzzle. How was it that Wretch did not remember her? What cruel ploy was this? The dark-furred coyote seemed to sway in place a moment, her chartreuse eyes regarding the pale woman with shock and suspicion. There was no doubt this was her Wretch, adult or not -- the dark-hued woman would never have forgotten that scent nor mistake anyone else's for it, having spent so many close weeks underground with Wretch.

How is it you scorn your own mother so? the coyote asked, her voice dulled and flattened. Where any but family would have received a scathing demand, the coyote could not hide her hurt here and now, not before the daughter who had been lost so long she'd forgotten the faces of her family. Or perhaps, it was not forgetfulness, but willfulness which had driven the memory of Eris's countenance from Wretch's mind. The coyote dared hope not, though she remained balanced on a precise and razor edge, awaiting whatever disbelief or further scorn was to befall her. Though the dark woman thought Salvia did not respect her as the girl might have in youth, at least her green-eyed daughter gave Eris the public face of respect she deserved. At least now, no one was around to see Wretch insult her so.

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