paint it black

The world was tossing and tumbling... or maybe, yes, he was tossing and tumbling. The water rushing all around him, his limbs kicking out all around, trying to find the surface, trying to breathe! He gasps, jaws outstretched from the tides to take a breath of air before another wave is throwing him under once more and his body is thrashed into black rock, cutting, crushing...

When he wakes, it is with a throbbing head and a horrible stinging in his flank where sea rock had sliced it open. The wakes roll along his sides as he lays on the shoreline, groaning. He attempts to lift, only gets up an inch before giving up and laying back down flat again- legs splayed out in each direction and chin to the sand.

“Ah...fuck...” Waiting until his vision stops spinning, he lifts his head up to look around him. Black rock, dark trees, black sands... “What the-?” He had been here once before, but that was nearly a year ago. How did he get here!?
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Drizzt was content to lay here awhile, letting the saltwater rush along his sides. He grit his teeth each time as the waters cleansed his open wound on his flank. The sea had a way with tearing you apart and then healing you there after. Like a wild, unpredictable mad woman. It would be his forever and only love... said by every pirate ever.

Then, a yell and he lifts his skull to see a thin greyscale woman coming into his direction. He wondered if since last being in this place it had been claimed. Shit.

Large, pointed ears perked high and his legs moved in closer to himself, ready to lift himself up off the ground if she gave him any trouble and he needed to scat. “Yeah, what?” He barked back.
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“Might as well.” He huffed, sun flare eyes watching her with a hard stare as she made to look him up and down- or, side to side, given his position.

After a moment, he houst himself haphazardly upward, back peddling his front long legs until he was at a sitting position and from here he shook out the weighted saltwater from his thick ruff.

“Hmm, guess it don't matter. Not really like I had anyone or anything to do anyway. Not sure how I wound up here, though.” He hadn't been here in a long time and now he found himself shifting his gaze away from the stony colored woman and around him. Something seemed, off still. The lands around this place not having been as they were before.

Then, he remembered she was still here, looking at him as though she was waiting for something. Turning back then to her, “My on your turf or somethin lass?”
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Y'all ccan ignore her for now! Or spot her, idc. LOL

---

Funny how the ocean brought certain ones to them. Funnier still how she and Wake always seemed to end up in similar spots, not that she minded at all, but amusing nonetheless. Currently, Esmerelda was perched upon a rather large rock, or maybe you would call it a boulder, watching the sea pull in and out of the shoreline. This was something she often did, entranced by the body of water that was both powerful and calm, for the moment anyway.

It wasn't until she heard voices that her head turned, spying the drenched form of the male and the wispy, strong form of her sailor. While she couldn't quite make out the words, Esmerelda watched anyway, ears pushed forward to catch what snatches of their conversation that she could. This world had a funny way of bringing others to it, for was this not the third or fourth wolf that Wake had found in such a manner? Herself included?

A smile on her face, the sea witch remained where she was, watching from afar though she would always be ready to aide her Captain, should something about this chance meeting go awry.

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Captain. She regarded him with a hard stare, stating that he was close enough. “Close enough...” His muzzle crinkled. But not quite, yet still close enough for her to get her fur in a bunch, as it were.

Again, she asked if he planned on dying out here or living, dry humor on her mug. He got it, but he was a wolf with a short temper and even shorter fuse. “I live by the sea and I'll die by it.” He murmurs, lifting up onto all fours finally with a wince, large paws splaying in the sands. Even to this day, his ears were large on his skull and devilishly pointed and paws which looked like a pup might have while still trying to grow into them.

“Well, Captain, ye might be one but ye ain't mine.” Now, he stares back at her, challenging, unmoving, but not lifting his tail or flashing his fangs either. He was testing her resolve, seeing how much she could take. Then, with a snarky humor back- “May I exit now, lass?”
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She kept her resolve- calm and cool. He snorts. She had a point and so he turns and takes a few limping steps- but to where? He had been in this island before but the lands around were different. He wasn't strong enough to go throwing himself back into the water to swim to the mainland, so maybe if he just put some distance between himself and her, he could stay on the black island long enough to relax and recoup.

Her eyes dance the length of his body down to his gashed thigh. Had she thought he never had a cut before? Well, not this big, at least not for a long time now, back when he actually did have a crew to look after him. “The salt waters never done me wrong before.” But if he died, well, so be it. It didn't much care for living for himself and with what little few he had trusted, gone, the last year had been a spilling down to worthlessness and uselessness in his part.

A brow quirked, tossing his head around his shoulder back towards her. “Why, ye feeling like giving 'healing handouts' for some reason?” And especially for the likes of him? What did it matter to her, anyway? Maybe she was just fucking with him- stringing him along. That or, maybe she in some way or another could understand his grumpy attitude due to the situation. Unfortunately, she didn't know he always had a grumpy attitude.
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She sneered, a showing of her teeth. His hackles bristled. However she did not attack, even if he was waiting for it, even if he was kind of wanting it. Typically speaking, Drizzt's respect didn't come without beating it out of him first. If it all worked out well, he could get healed up, freeloader on their caches while healing and then be out in a flash... Where, exactly, was yet to be determined. Anywhere, really. The sea was endless.

She spoke of the Saltwoods. They couldn't be far, granted she was here scouting out this land and from what she had said previously. His fiery eyes follow her own, onto the figure of a wolf along a roost. Who was she, if this one here was Captain?

Huffing as he turned his attention back to Wake. “Aye, I'll work for ye. Sure enough as ye get me fixed up to do so.” He spoke, motioning by lifting up the injured limb. “Name's Drizzt.”
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It was at this point that Esmerelda found it fitting to gracefully slink her way off her sea-side throne and over to the two wolves, having seen Wake's indication of her presence, and the savage kindling in the man's. It was almost as though the see was taunting them by depositing so many of the opposite sex onto their shores, but the women would make the best of it. They had thus far, had they not?

The Mystic ventured closer, silver patchwork fur curled by the salty sea and made ever more wild by the ocean breeze. And to think, she had appeared on the shores of this very island as pristine as could be. But now, it was obvious that the nymph was in her element.

Esme did not stand directly at her lover’s side just then, aware that this one that needed aide and a safe place to weather the coming storms was feisty, churlish, and a bit of an ass, if she was being honest. Truthfully, she thought he bent too easily for one with the attitude he’d showed. But those were words she’d keep to herself, for now.

“And when you don’t feel like “working for us” anymore?” Her question, while to the point and unfailingly blunt, was not one of anger or spite but pure curiosity. “We are small in number, but mighty, like the Lady Sea herself. Is that something you would make an effort to bolstering?”

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The molted, silvery women decends from her roost, shorter then the first and yet just as petite and slender. Drizzt was beginning to wonder if he had ended up in some sort of trap, cast into the lands of sea harpy and sirens. He would have to keep his wits about them, should he be lead into their territory only for them to suck him dry of whatever life in him still remained.

While the first woman spoke of equal work for the payment of mending his limb, the second woman spoke of a much longer promise of dedication. Drizzt brow rose as Wake's had, sun flare eyes looking to her with a sharpness.

“Look, 'Lass number two', I ain't planning on giving ye some life long commitment, if that's what yer after.” His eyes shifted between the two of them, wondering if they should have a little talk between one another on their expectations first before deciding what they wanted out of him. Damn this fucked up leg.

“I've been on my own for quite awhile now and before that, my crew traveled, following the coast line. Never stuck around in one place for long. I don't think I would be a good candidate for your whole pack thing.” How small in number were they, that they had an interest in Drizzt sticking around, for good? Maybe they would give him a break and just roll with the punches day-by-day, as Drizzt did. This commitment talk was making his stomach turn... or maybe that was still due to him being rocked so hard by the sea.
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As soon as he spoke, Esmerelda's eyes narrowed. It was obvious this one liked to jump to conclusions, not listening past what he wanted to hear, or what he thought he heard. After seeing how he interacted with her hardier counterpart, the Mystic would lunge forward and snap at him, seeking to deliver a harsh pinch to his ear or face; a warning that he would only receive once. “My name is Esmerelda, and I am the Mystic here. Your rudeness will not direct itself at me, or I will teach you a lesson you will not soon forget.”

Those stormy eyes leveled themselves at him, dark in their intent as she waited to confirm he understood. “We expect a notification if you decide to leave, not a wordless disappearance.” No lifelong commitment needed, or asked after. Esmerelda had no need of men for any length of time, and that they allowed his presence was a gesture of generosity on their part, not on his for staying with them. “The Saltwoods do not suffer those that are lazy or take only for themselves. Do not be selfish, and you will be allowed to stay as long as you like or need. If that is something you will struggle with, then say so now.”

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A narrowed gaze is his only warning and then the quick little woman was snapping at him. Drizzt's face lifts and rears back though doesn't bother to try to back up or jump away, not with his cut up thigh. A sting of a fresh cut on his cheek caused him to snort in protest. “Aye.” He only returns when she speaks her name, the name of wharever rank 'Mystic' meant and teaching him a lesson should he forget it.

“Mystic, Esmerelda.” He moves his tongue along the length of his dark muzzle, his fiery eyes gleaming with every bit of suggestion that he quite enjoyed the warning attack. She wasn't going to cut him or his bad attitude any slack just because he was having a shitty day. Good. Bring it.

She continues then, speaking that if/when he did go, to let them know at least. That his time here he would not be lazy. Easy enough understood. Equal work for equal aid, as Wake had suggested. Don't be selfish. He had learned to live off little and would continue to do so. Drizzt wasn't about to have pack life make him fat and useless. So, Don't be rude to her, don't be selfish, don't be lazy. Overbearing, dominant asshole wasn't in that list, at least. Drizzt would either become their most dedicated wolf or their most regretted- to be determined.

So in response to her last sentence, Drizzt fell silent.
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Good with me! I'm good for this to be Esme's last post <3

---

His warning was received with an adjustment in attitude, something she acknowledged with a lift of her chin, that stormy gaze pinned to him when their silence lapsed. But her own silence was approval in his quiet acceptance of the terms they had both laid out. Esmerelda did not expect him to be perfectly obedient throughout his stay here, no, but she welcomed the challenge and could appreciate when a man could be teachable.

Only when Wake spoke again did her fiery countenance fade, morphing into something more relaxed and pleasant. “Once you are settled, seek me out if you want help with your leg.” She was no master healer, but she knew the basics enough to at least make sure it did not get infected. He would have to come to her though, for she was not going to extend her neck too far to this one. Not yet, anyway.

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Archiving!

---

A silence stirred between them in what was a quiet understanding. Then, the Captain spoke, breaking said silence as she told them they should move along then. “Aye.” He answered her questioning, already beginning to limp into their direction which would lead them to what would be a home to him, for awhile at least. The island of Saltwoods, connected by a sandbar from this dark island he stood on now. Last he been here, there wasn't another island in sight. The shifting of the world and the talk of gods was something the rather simple man would not bother trying to wrap his head around.

The Captain spoke of sleeping arrangements, the Mystic spoke of patching him up by her own patchy coated self. Often, Drizzt just kept drowning his leg in the water water with wounds. Living by the sea made it easy and at nights, would slap some mud on it. It was likely so he would do the same this time and only come if it started to look bad off.

“Ah, so no cuddling then?” He laughs, as he follows them off.
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