Vesper had to admire this canine’s bravery; she was dead set on protecting the damned feline, it seemed, and didn’t back off after her aggressive display. She had to admire someone who had backbone, no matter how irritated she was; she had dealt with wimps far too often to find it “cute” anymore. While most simply thought that the proud loner liked to think she was superior to everyone, she found equals refreshing. Her arrogance bordered on narcissism sometimes, but she still had the empathy that made it possible for her to form actual relationships. She might have cracked a smirk and commented on the other female’s guts if not for the tense situation.
The canine seemed to be a dog—no other canines that Vesper knew of had such richly colored and patterned coats. Blue eyes such as the ones this young woman possessed were also more common among dogs; Vesper’s own evening-sky color was merely a fluke of genetics and possible hybridization even beyond her parents’ and grandparents’ lines.
The dog’s eyes darted away from her a brief moment, flickering with concern over the dark cat that had sought refuge underneath her. To the coywolf’s shock, the cat instructed her to keep her focus.
The dog spoke then, responding to her irritable question. “She protects me.”
Vesper smirked coldly, showing a bit of tooth. She couldn’t imagine a dog—especially one almost of wolf size—being protected by prey. “It seems to be the other way around now,” she remarked coolly, though more of the aggression had left her body. She had found her composure again, that mask of ice that hid the flames underneath. Often, the mask melted with the intensity of her anger and adrenaline, but more often than not she could control herself before a fight actually started. Also contrary to popular belief, Ves didn’t like getting into random tussles, even if she enjoyed the fights themselves. They were often a waste of energy and blood.
The silence that followed might have been uncomfortable for one not used to having no conversation partners. As it was, the coywolf simply took the time to appraise the dog in return. Once again, she took note of the rich tricolor pelt—exotic to the hybrid, and lovely—and also noted the other female had to be around her age, give or take a few months. She also smelled of a luperci, though Vesper didn’t pay attention to this detail while she was in a four-legged form.
“At any rate, you can relax,” the loner said nonchalantly before her icy eyes fell upon the cat again. “I do believe that your…protector has some suicidal tendencies, however. Either that, or she likes to eat heels.” She glanced quickly at her hind foot; she had gotten the one that was already damaged, its furthest toes torn off by coyote jaws, but the cat had only given it a sharp nip. It’d already stopped bleeding.
