It was early morning and Alma found herself staring at the D'Neville Mansion, instead of hunting like she had intended. A full quiver rested on her back, and a bow in her hands. Her hair had been tied back into a braid, and both her hair and fur had been dulled with dirt. Bits of dead leaves and twigs clung to her. The camouflage she had chosen was normal for whenever she went hunting; it helped ensure her prey didn't spot her by her bright coat. She must have looked quite ridiculous, standing there like this, in the mansion's yard.
The coywolf spent more time near the mansion, since she'd been injured. Now that Enkiel's guesthouse proved to be safe, she was wondering if it would be too - perhaps she was wrong to think it would fall on her the moment she entered. Curiosity made her want to look inside and see what might be found - perhaps something that she could use to help her archery practice? A target of some sort? Caution, however, kept her from doing so - at least while she was alone.
The voice of her Aquilla registered in her ears, jarring her out of her thoughts. The tone was urgent, commanding. The coyote gripped her bow tightly, taking off at a sprint. She darted past the gate, entering the forest. She had to squint in the morning light; the trees were still bare and hadn't sprung leaves left, so it did not provide much cover. The scent of her leader and her friend served as a guide; when she could not trust her eyes, she could trust their footsteps.
Her mind was drawn to the attack Emmanuelle had told her about. Her nose wrinkled as she picked up the stench of wolves. It was an attack - and from the smell of it, they had horses. A coyote could easily be crushed under their hooves... Em! Some maternal instinct kicked in and told her to protect the yearling. Perhaps it was her mother's influence, the pups she'd seen, or the knowledge that the young woman been injured before - whatever it was, she was certainty relieved when she saw her friend was still alive.
Alma skidded to a halt beside the two. Emmanuelle had already drawn her bow and aimed; now she did so as well. Despite the morning light, she caught a glimpse of what her companion was aiming at: a flash of brown and silver, with a luperci shape on top. She released the arrow, hoping to distract if not injure either the horse or its rider.
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