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Fighting was not something that ranked high on Eris's list of things she was interested in—she did not always leap to violence like most of her other family. She much preferred to keep her inflicting of pain to those she knew were below her, those who were definitely unable to fight against her will. The slaves had been perfect for that purpose, and Eris had been raised from six months onward accepting and approving of slavery. Now, though, it would seem she had entered a place where it was generally unacceptable—though by the looks of Vieira's nosering, she was still very much a slave. That had been at least something to smile about, though the tawny-furred woman was never meant to survive the trek northwards. She should have died on her way here, as Eris was certain that Kaena was dead, and the whole reason for the golden-eyed woman's journey was the pursuit of a ghost. That had been the great joke, though now the sable-furred woman had to face the reality of Vieira's survival. It mattered little to her, either way—the slave was no longer her possession, the slave was no longer her problem.
A faint smile flashed on the woman's shadowy features, and she dipped her head to him, indicating the same sentiment back toward him. “That's a while. Anything interesting in the time you've been here?” the sable woman asked. Maybe there were some clues to her past that had come to the surface more recently, and in any case it was a good idea to secure the clan's history—not that the sable-furred woman was particularly interested in it. She did not care for the coyote clan to the extent that her mother and her elder half-brother did—they were the leadership, and the clan's survival rested on their shoulders. “Thank you,” the hybrid murmured, taking the bottle and sipping from the cold water. She assumed it had come from the river, of course, as it was still chilly to the temperature, beads of water running down its sides. There was a slight nod to indicate his correctness regarding her new status to the clan, and a frown at his question. Her chartreuse gaze wandered for a moment, hesitant to delve into the entire reason for her arrival here. “Family. Guess which one,” she said, her voice at once tinged with brightness and bitterness, sarcasm at the size of her family. What Eris actually knew of the Lykoi could fit on a pinhead, but the sable-furred coyote knew there were many of them, more than she could probably imagine.