Backdated to maybeee... February 29? :o Is okay? ((337))
Night had fallen over the land, but the silver-furred coyote lingered about the western border still, too anxious to head home for the night's sleep. She wondered if there were others out here tonight; the coyote woman did not think that all of Inferni slumbered. Certainly as large as they were, she was not alone here. That gave her confidence; it was a woeful thing that the silver-furred hybrid had barely dared to travel past the coyote lands' borders since the second attack on her life by Haku Soul, the more scarring one. The knotty lump of pink tissue low on her neck was nothing compared to the wound he'd inflicted during their second encounter.
Even so, such timidness was understandable—she'd traveled to Halifax again only with the company of three other coyotes, two of which were excellent fighting stock. The third would have had to been protected, but still. The silver-furred coyote didn't think there was any danger at all in that, not with a contingent of herself, Anselm, Snake, and Vieira. Beyond that, she'd been only to the mountains and the woods immediately surrounding Inferni; roaming beyond that was seemingly beyond her. Theoretically the northlands would be safe; Drifter Bay and the tiny village way up on the northern point. Sometimes she wished Inferni would move there and get the hell away from all of the wolves; she knew they would not. They were deeply rooted were they were, and she did not blame the others' attachment to this land. It was different for her—to Kaena, Inferni might always be a tiny spit of sand and a strip of forest.
That was all ash now, and the hybrid sighed, her single eye gleaming as she scanned the forest. It was the no-man's-land, the most dangerous place of all. She did not doubt there were attackers and enemies lurking there; she wondered what madmen Haku had recruited to his cause. The hybrid remained seated where she was, her halfling form hulking rather than hiding beneath a dead tree. She was still other than the slight movements of her ribs and an occasional blink, always scanning the woods for movement, noting all of it. Dahlians were not below swooping in during the dead of night.
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