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Myrika Tears · 11-03-2011, 07:49 PM

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Her fingers started to ache upon cessation of her work, and the rusty hybrid stretched her arms out before her, extending the fingers as far as they would go. She cracked each of her knuckles and tilted her head this way and that, popping noises issuing from all over her body. It was hard work, and she thought she might be rid of it for the night. There was always tomorrow -- night would give way to day, and Myrika would have a new sunlight by which to work.

Her thoughts turned to the things she had learned about this place thus far. Their history was bloody, true enough -- she could not look upon most of the canines of Inferni and see cold-blooded killer, however. More than a few were laid-back, even-tempered, and most seemed utterly incapable of killing, herself included. The coyote ruminated over this and did not hear the approaching footsteps and noise until a voice called her name.

The Vigiles snapped to attention and stood, her smile at once welcoming and nervous. She did not feel at ease around Ezekiel. He was, after all, the first absolute leader she'd ever encountered -- Talitha and Sage were sub-leaders, accomplices to the Aquila. Thornloe had no true leadership. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and brushed her arms and thighs off, though nothing at all clung to them. Her big ears were folded backwards into the thick tangle of curly hair her Optime form spouted, but she did not bow before him; the woman simply dipped her head forward and brought it back up, though her gaze never quite met his thereafter.

Hello, Ezekiel, she said, warmly. What brings you out here? It was his territory, true enough, but Myri was the only one living way out here, so far as she knew. There was little reason to come here, thus why she'd staked out this spot.

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