Larkspur had shown his children what weakness could do. Harlowe had been weak. He had been cut down like an animal, his neck broken in a single blow. The child knew she was capable of both strength and weakness, and every day she sought to display her prowess. Her father’s sheep respected her. So did the horses. In time she aimed to make the whole pack recognize that she, Salvia Eternity, was mighty. Fate could sod off—she made her own destiny.
Taking a step back to give the woman space to gather her things, Salvia smiled broadly at the taller coyote. Now was always better than later, and for the stubborn and strong-headed girl, patience was something she only practiced when the need came. Hunting, herding; these things needed patience. Waiting for adult was not one of these things. “Salvia Eternity,” she called out proudly, cat’s eyes on the sun colored coyote. She trotted after her contently, and the pair soon made their way to Tlatnti’s home.
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