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+--- Thread: GO death whistle (/showthread.php?tid=12859)
death whistle - Fa'liya - 7/22/2026
fa’liya arrives days after the rest. the ghost-talker had followed them at the pace her chest permits, and by the time she crests the final rise, evening has begun to gather in the hollows.
fa’liya stood at the last slope with her legs locked beneath her. the destination below was not so different from the places she had crossed to reach it, and yet by far it is the most beautiful—late summer had thickened the grasses until they folded over one another in green-gold waves. water caught the declining light and broke it into pink and yellow plates.
she had imagined reaching this place many times during the slow crawl southward. in those imaginings, there had been relief. perhaps even triumph. instead, she feels only the burning of her breath. the climb had set her heart against her ribs in a disordered rhythm, too fast and yet faltering, but rest would have to wait. the faint murmur of the pack drifted upward—the sound tugged at her, something deeper than thought.
she need only go to them for a moment. the fact is the only reason she swallows against the dryness in her throat and forces her legs to move.
the slope was gentle, but it felt steep beneath her weight. each movement sent a dull ache through her ribs, a reminder of the long road behind her, soon to be traversed again. still, she descended, drawn by the scent of them. as she neared the bottom, shapes began to separate from the grasses. figures turned. a few heads lifted, ears pricking toward her. recognition moved through them slowly, like wind through tall stems.
she kept walking until the distance between her and the pack began, at last, to close.
super late thread for all the puppies! dated back to the 19th.
RE: death whistle - Tatsaaye' - 7/22/2026
The grove is louder than the forest has ever been. Birds and insects and frogs singing over rushing water, the wind rustling leaves against each other. The life of the many caribou hunters who have come here.
Tatsaaye' knows even the ones she did not know now. She knows Nutuyikruk's children and Iglux's silver shape and Caan's commanding voice. She is fast-growing to match the height of her cousins, and preens over the feather threaded into her fur, a match to her fire-brother and raven-cousin.
It is good to rest, though Tatsaaye' is restless to learn more. But in the gathering dusk the hunters are gathered, and so she sees the shadow-shape crest over the rise, and hears the gentle crunch of damp grass.
Tatsaaye' unfolds to investigate, in a lazy uncoiling stretch.
Closer, there is a sickness to her caribou-scent, sour and wrong. It kicks Tatsaaye' to a sudden halt. Storm-girl regards her with cautious eyes, searching for explanation in her narrow muzzle and the visible lines of her ribs.
Tatsaaye' knows even the ones she did not know now. She knows Nutuyikruk's children and Iglux's silver shape and Caan's commanding voice. She is fast-growing to match the height of her cousins, and preens over the feather threaded into her fur, a match to her fire-brother and raven-cousin.
It is good to rest, though Tatsaaye' is restless to learn more. But in the gathering dusk the hunters are gathered, and so she sees the shadow-shape crest over the rise, and hears the gentle crunch of damp grass.
Tatsaaye' unfolds to investigate, in a lazy uncoiling stretch.
Closer, there is a sickness to her caribou-scent, sour and wrong. It kicks Tatsaaye' to a sudden halt. Storm-girl regards her with cautious eyes, searching for explanation in her narrow muzzle and the visible lines of her ribs.
RE: death whistle - Iglux̂ - 7/26/2026
Along a black basaltic jet of the grove, Iglux̂ waits, an anticipatory face at arrival, eyes wide and tail an eager flicker as each small body crests the final hillock. She is proud of Fa’liya for taking this step. Proud too of her brother, Caan, who had guided the pups so assuredly, who’d seemed to let go of some dousing of anger. It is good to see him in this role, to grow some hope in the silver who favors the promise of her own children.
The storm of Tatsaaye' is first to appear.
Soon, Nutuyikruk and her children will come; Meleys and her brood. And then, at last, Iglux̂ would have her own children before her once more. How deeply she has missed having them near.
And, if ice raven is satisfied, he will grant a kindness, and bring Cen to her side, that she and her husband might find one another again in what has been overshadowed by the arrival of their children.
RE: death whistle - Fa'liya - 8/9/2026
her thoughts have gone soft around the edges, dulled beneath the steady hammering of her heart and the thinness of every breath. she watches a gray girl unfold from among the gathered bodies and cannot immediately remember what she means to do with it. greet her, perhaps. straighten herself. hide the trembling in her forelegs before those searching eyes find it.
fa’liya manages neither.
her pace falters once, then resumes. the grasses whisper against her belly as she passes through them, and somewhere beyond tatsaaye' she finds the pale gleam of iglux̂ upon the black stone. familiarity gathers piece by piece. saatsine. home.
a breeze comes sidelong across the grove, gathering water and damp earth and the thick animal musk of caribou. beneath it, something more dogged. coyote. the scent is faint enough that another breath might lose it entirely, but her body recognizes something within it before her exhausted mind can make sense of why. the fur along her spine lifts one slow ridge at a time.
snow.
for a moment she can almost feel it packed beneath her paws again. the endless white. the starved cow laid open upon it, then standing whole where death ought to have been. bone-white antlers branching outward until there was nowhere left to look. something behind her.
fa’liya’s gaze drifts past the bodies before her, unfocused. her ears turn backward. there is nothing there that she can see, and still that same peculiar awareness settles between her shoulders—the unmistakable impression of attention resting upon her from somewhere beyond sight. not close enough to touch. not distant enough to ignore.
her heart gives another unpleasant stumble. she slurs the silver's name as she inches closer, wispy.
...iglux̂.
RE: death whistle - Iglux̂ - 8/17/2026
Stand, Fa’liya. Finish the route.
In rote her mind reflects, waiting for Cen’s daughter to do as is custom; greet the cubs with words of wisdom and success from the mouth of Ghost Talker; to become a pillar for the young ones still learning this path.
There is none of it. Ravengirl lurches. At once, Iglux̂ is beside, lending weight where it is needed, steadying with a care that comes before thought.
“Fa’liya, you’ve done well,” she finds herself tender, speaking as she would to her own young daughter. There, the silver assumes a protective hunch, daring any other to question whether Fa’liya belongs.
RE: death whistle - Tatsaaye' - 8/21/2026
Some of the hunters come more slowly than others. Tatsaaye' has not seen this hunter before, but when there is no reply- neither from her nor Iglux, who slips from the dusk in a smear of cold silver- she understands this is family. There need not be caribou-scent with the fur and shape of sunclan.
She follows along in creeping step nonetheless as the woman passes her, close to Fa'liya's flank and then to the silver's. She need not be tested in blood to know illness- this is a thing all animals know to sense, all predators know to use.
It is the same instinct that tells her the danger in missing a step, and which watches Iglux' shoulder keep her cousin to her paws. Storm-girl is confused; she wavers and slinks closer. "You hurt?"
She follows along in creeping step nonetheless as the woman passes her, close to Fa'liya's flank and then to the silver's. She need not be tested in blood to know illness- this is a thing all animals know to sense, all predators know to use.
It is the same instinct that tells her the danger in missing a step, and which watches Iglux' shoulder keep her cousin to her paws. Storm-girl is confused; she wavers and slinks closer. "You hurt?"