Word Count :: 371 Eeee. :3 Assumed Skye was Optime!
The silver-shaded woman was not generally one to act as a diplomat. Inferni rarely had needs for such things, anyway -- they preferred to keep to themselves, and even when the looming threat of their closest neighbor had roared to life with Haku Soul, they had waited to strike, leaving themselves defending and retaliating. Maybe it was her scarred face that made her a poor choice for the job, but the Centurion was relatively calm -- she did not think most wolves were the way they had been when she was young anymore, truly. She might have played up such an ideal in the right company, but that belief had been shaken years earlier, and maybe it had finally shattered.
It was not to say wolves had not done terrible things to her -- Haku certain had, and many wolves before him. The silvery coyote, however, could not discount that the vast majority of them simply sought to stay out of trouble, much like Inferni. One or two rotten and terrible individuals did not make an entire species awful. It was not long before the old coyote detected the sounds of an approach, and her sable-shaded ears, one of them still whole and the other a tattered remnant, perked toward the noise, her one remaining eye peering through the thick trees to detect the stranger. Before long, a pale, cream-yellow figure emerged, two-legged and decorated in clothing.
Her own short Lupus form certainly posed no threat, but as the woman came closer, the hybrid offered a respectful tip of her head, angling it toward the ground. It was quick and it was certainly no bow, but it was a gesture of respect nonetheless. “Kaena Lykoi of Inferni. It's good to meet you -- I heard a rumor about a new pack, and I wanted to see for myself,” she explained, quickly. With hardly a pause, she continued: “I also heard my granddaughter, Sepirah, was offered residence in the pack, and I took it to mean Cercatori was friendly toward coyotes.” It was more than she usually spoke, but this meeting was primarily about business -- an official first contact, of sorts. To her knowledge, Gabriel had not sought this pack out.
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