of weak will
#1
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Word Count→330 — All welcome, set in Borgata Tecolotl (Owl).

She had been spending more time away than was necessary. Since the appearance of Xochime Kimaris back in the day-to-day life of the golden coyote, she had desired more time outside of her family. Miqui was glad, sure, but the frightfully cold younger sister saw no purpose for her orange-haired sister apart from the common tasks of a slave. Disgust wormed its way into her heart without hesitation. Xochime, the frail flower of her bloodline. The Crone spit onto the ground beneath her feet, staring over the coast in silence. Fiery eyes narrowed upon the horizon. Why did she have to show up?

Oh yes, Tlantli loved her sister. They were raised with the strong sense of mecatl, like any other of the Eternian coyotes, and her blood family was as important to the Crone as it was to any of the coyotes found in the Mexican civilization; this did not mean, however, that she felt the presence of her sister was necessary. After all, it was Xochime who had allowed herself to be stolen away by the demon half-brother. Tlantli had not been taken. It was Xochime who had been sold into slavery, who wore the gold piercing indicative of all Eternian slaves. Tlantli had been a whore, but she would never have allowed herself such disgrace. The golden Crone rubbed at the hollow points of her skull in an attempt to relieve the pulsing headache she had begun to suffer.

Slender legs carried the athletic woman away from the ruins of the village and toward the peaceful stretch of coast known as Tecolotl, where the animals were often grazed. It would get her away, she was sure, and give her a place to relax. Her satchel was dropped gently upon the grassy pasture of the picnic area, followed by the body of the golden woman dropping upon the ground inelegantly. A low, complaintive groan escaped her jaws to run free on the air. "Esa perra estúpida."

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#2
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-steaaaaling-

As she often did, Salvia traveled alone to visit her father’s horse. The mare was quickly advancing in her pregnancy and Salvia was thrilled to think that soon she would have a horse. Her father had promised she could, after all, and she was excited to see what might be born. She hoped for a boy horse, one big and strong like her brother. That would certainly be fun, to ride around, even if she would need to wait like her father warned her she would. Obviously she couldn’t ride a baby, but she had listened to him diligently and gone about with her endless wait.

The fence had been finished days ago, and the barn continued with the same diligence that Salvia had come to expect from her father. Without having any duties herself, she was free to do as she pleased—and that was why she lingered here so often. She had kept herself entertained chasing small animals and killing one or two, but grown bored with this about an hour ago. So with the sounds of her father’s horse grazing and birds and insects buzzing in the background, she had fallen asleep in the sunlight.

An unfamiliar noise woke her from a dreamless nap and Salvia started at the sound. She rose sleepily and yawned. With a low stretch she trotted towards the source, finding the sandy colored woman she considered her aunt nearby. Launching herself over the fence with a strong-legged bound, Salvia scrambled herself over and landed with a heavy thud in the soft grass.


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#3
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D'aww. Niecey-aunt time.

She was alone in the grass of Borgata Tecolotl, alone with her satchel filled with the dried hallucinogenics and her displeasure about the fire-haired Xochime Kimaris. For a moment, she cursed herself about traveling away from the comforts of her home within Borgata Colotl — she should have sought out Sirius to deal with her irritation upon his back. Instead, she had chosen to venture away from the ruins into solitude, a solitude she did not want nor appreciate. And she blamed Xochime.

Of course, loneliness never stayed long with the golden Kimaris, and the heavy thud of a child's weight roused her from her place upon the ground. Fiery eyes gazed through the blades of grass upon the sandy young female she knew as Salvia, the only part of the Eternity family that the Crone appreciated apart from Eris herself. A faint smile crossed over black-lined lips, small body rising from the ground with the help of scarified arms. "Hola, niña. Whaye you come ahll this way?" Her gaze turned away from her niece, searching the land behind her for sights of the black buffoon who had fathered her; since their move from the caves of Anathema to the hidden land of Salsola, the Kimaris made no effort to hide her sheer disgust in Larkspur D'Angelo's person.

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#4
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-steaaaaling-

Politics were peculiar things to the girl. She was old enough to understand them in many ways, but not all the subtleties that came with them. Without a doubt, Sirius was in charge. Everyone, even her mother, bowed to him. Eris was not far behind, though, and below her the oddly quiet blonde man and her aunt. Her father shared an important job with others, but it had become apparent he was not a favorite by any means. Salvia found this upsetting. She loved her father very much and did not grasp why the adults thought he was less important and less smart. Larkspur, when he spoke to her in their secret tongue, was eloquent and filled with fantastic tales of the mountain called Khalif. These stories invoked fear and respect into his daughter, who believed without a doubt the three gods of her bloodline were very real.

“I always come here,” she said with a pretty smile, closing the distance between them and rubbing her face against her aunt’s in the greeting she had learned. Settling back onto the grass, fluffy tail curled around one haunch, Salvia looked hard at the coyote woman’s face and read the tension there. She was not able to do this on everyone, but it was not hard given just how distressed the Crone was. “Are you okay?” The girl asked quietly, keeping her usual sharp-tongued tone out of this question. Had it been anyone else (save Sirius) she would have likely come off as cruel, for this was almost a weakness in their odd new culture.


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#5
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It was true enough that Tlantli did not frequent regions of the territory outside of Borgata Colotl, as she preferred the solitude her spiral-shaped home offered, and so she did not realize that young Salvia preferred the grassy region of Tecolotl; the more she thought of it, she supposed that it made sense. After all, she knew the girl's father owned a horse, and she had seen the sheep he tended — more proof that he lacked her higher intelligence. Perhaps she expected that one of the Eternity offspring would also enjoy such a thing, though what a shame that it was sandy Salvia, her favorite niece.

Tlantli welcomed the nuzzle of greeting that had become a commonplace thing, returning it briefly before gazing into the younger female's chartreuse eyes. They were so similar to the black hybrid woman she saw as a sister, and it caused the Kimaris woman to smile her strangely morbid smile. It was erased by the question her niece presented. "Si. Aye ahm fine." No more was needed to be said, as Tlantli found it unnecessary to divulge her personal thoughts to one of the children, regardless of how close she felt to the child in question. "Ahnd yoursalf? You ahre well? Your spaneesh, you ahre pracessing with the slave?" Simply the slave, no use of a name and no use of terms that qualified the woman as female or even alive; to Tlantli, she wasn't, as slaves were furniture in an otherwise tedious life, for those who deserved to be lazy.

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#6
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Salvia’s eyes were close to her mother’s, but one would notice they were at the same time very different. She lacked the yellowish hue of the Lykoi, harking back in appearance to a dead man. Wisdom also was not present in her gaze, but there was a savage cleverness that was almost feline in its way. She smiled that pretty smile for her beloved aunt. While she truly did love and admire those she considered kin, Tlanti also represented something more desired—power.

Si, Tía Tlanti. Habla más rápido que yo, por lo que a veces es difícil. Salvia admitted with a frown, unhappy at her presumed lack of speed in picking up the language. Given her lack of time with learning it, though, she was moving remarkably fast. While not quite fluent, and not able to pronounce words as a native speaker might, she was well-versed. Though, she had learned something very interesting. Gato de la mamá habla español también! The girl practically yelped, her excitement showing in one puppy hop that settled into a frantically wagging tail.


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#7
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Word Count → 327 — Sorry for the wait.

She laughed as her niece broke into Spanish with ease, listening to the words and carefully contemplating. The laughter faded into a frown at the use of feminine pronouns in regards to Molcaxitl Yocatl, for Tlantli herself believed the slaves of Eterne — and therefore the slaves of all cultures — to be little more than machines raised to utilize certain abilities. She shook her head, prepared to correct the girl: "No, Salvia. Not 'she'." She waved her hand as if to reinforce that the girl was doing something wrong. "The slaves, they ahre not liek us. You should not call them with the same words." She felt it best to instill this thought in the girl while still young, lest it cause the trouble of Salvia befriending a slave in the future. She supposed it was different with children who were cared for by such a thing; that didn't change the fact that Tlantli saw it to be wrong. Whether or not Eris believed so as well was unknown to the golden creature, and Larkspur's opinion in the matter was (for the most part) unimportant.

At the news that Eris' cat, the beautiful ocelot Itzcitla, was also a speaker of the Spanish language, Tlantli was unsurprised. "Por supuesto. Él proviene de Eterne, como ella y yo." Of course, she was only making an assumption; Eris had never mentioned where she received the cat, but Tlantli had seen others like it in the jungles of Mexico. She rubbed at her lower jaw, letting the conversation on the cat disappear. There was a more important one at hand that was realized as she studied the four-legged body of the young Eternity female. "¿Cuántos años tienes ahora, Salvia?" The girl was certainly growing up, and the Crone believed it would soon be time to bring the child into the ranks of the adults.

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#8
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Both ears fanned back at the reprimand. Salvia was unused to the idea of slaves lacking identities—they were living things after all. Yet the more she listened, the more her young mind tried to relate this knowledge into something she better understood. Herd animals, she reasoned, were like slaves. The sheep were not people, just items her father tended. Perhaps this was what slaves were like. They were sheep; they were objects.

Tlanti’s lapse back into Spanish drew her attention again, and she felt silly for even suggesting such a thing. Thankfully, her aunt went on to ask about the girl’s age. Sirius had done this long ago, but now Salvia understood that with age came power. How desperately she wanted to be an adult.Casi cinco meses,” she explained, beaming.

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#9
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Tlantli, y u gotta hate Larkspur? -.-

Five months. Five months was good, Tlantli mused; fiery eyes watched the girl for only moments before turning her gaze to the sky. Salvia was worth more, more useful, with the capacity to shift forms — and the fact that she was so intelligent rose that value further. Tlantli was sure she'd make a worthwhile coyote woman out of Salvia yet, and with Eris' help (for as far as Tlantli knew, Eris saw the ignorance in her choice of reproductive partner) she would succeed in this venture. But that was why time was so important. The longer Salvia remained a child, taught by the fool of a father she was sired under, the farther away those capabilities were.

"Fahve monts. This ess very good, Salvia, very good." They weren't really words of praise, but she did feel vague pride in how her niece — if Salvia could rightfully be called such a thing — was growing. "Soon, you well be ahn ahdults. You well haft to learn smahrt choices in the world; your madre ahnd aye cahn teach you, but only you cahn truly learn." She did not mention that it was best for Salvia to ignore Larkspur's attempts at giving knowledge, as she expected Salvia to have a strong attachment to her father just as Tlantli herself did.

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#10
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Though not entirely oblivious to the dislike between her aunt and her father, Salvia overlooked these things for the sake of learning. Tlanti knew many things that the girl desired; magic, how to fight. She would learn from her as she would learn from her own parents, and she would prosper. Salvia was smart enough to understand what it meant to play both sides of the fence. Without gaining as much as she could now then as an adult she would never reach the potential she imagined for herself.

Pleased by the thought of learning about the world, Salvia smiled broadly and wagged her fluffy puppy tail. “When I can, will you teach me to fight like you do?” Boxing was a style of fighting she did not understand, but it looked like something useful to learn—something she could use against Salsola’s enemies.

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#11
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She was sure that someday there would be no room for the distaste of Larkspur in her relationship with young Salvia, and it was for that reason that she held reservations on teaching the girl; oh, of course she would teach the young female, but not to the same capabilities that she herself held. She would let Salvia hone those skills herself, and if she was unable to, then that would be that. But Tlantli had faith that her non-niece was intelligent enough to take her teachings and make them her own. If she were not, there would be no reason for Tlantli to teach her — after all, she did not teach Pandemic, who (with his oddly quiet nature, not unlike his father) had been labelled early on to be similar to Larkspur.

Salvia's request was a simple one, but Tlantli made to appear as if she was taking great strides in thinking about it anyways. A slender hand rose to rub at her chin, fire eyes watching the girl with an edge of scrutiny. Salvia was sure to be smaller than her brother, more capable to handle the way that her aunt fought — even Eris', if she were more intelligent, wouldn't have been able to master the fast-but-strong movements simply because of her wolf bulk. But Salvia...Tlantli nodded. "Si. Aye will teach you." It would be up to Salvia to learn, but Tlantli would provide the chance, just as she had with her mother tongue.

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