Red Silk

Vesper · 11-30-2011, 01:56 PM

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Ves is so dense.

Word Count → 479

Isabella averted her disappointed blue-gold eyes, turning into the neck of her mare, and Vesper stifled a little growl of frustration—one directed at herself for several reasons. One was that she hadn’t wanted to upset the woman, and another was a sharp jab at herself for even caring. Despite her hard front, the coyote hybrid found herself giving a damn far too often was healthy—both for her reputation and for her existence. She was vulnerable, drawn in like an insect seeking the sweet nectar at the bottom of a pitcher plant.

Slipped, drowned, digested.

The coywolf also did not know of great cities or the bustling crowds, so she could only wonder at the loss in the other’s expression. Her expression betraying nothing more than a hint of confusion, she listened to the other’s explanation before the word “clients” popped up. Born feral, the two-year-old hybrid didn’t understand the implications that could rest behind that word, and so with all the naivety of an uncivilized rogue, she tilted her head and hoped to reassure her.

“There are different tracts of land, different paths that luperci cross. I know that some merchants will stop and sell their wares. Or you could simply find a pack that was interested in whatever your trade is, set up shop on neutral territory.”

Vesper had no idea why she was trying to help the other young woman out, other than the protective instincts that built in her at a time like this. She was sure that she sounded pathetic, and any clan mate who wandered across them would probably laugh at her if they didn’t reprimand her for chatting so easily with a loner.

Something drove her to shift, then—a small, prickling urge that was also accompanied by the urge to get away from Inferni for the moment. She could practice balancing in the mountains, perhaps find a meal there, but first she needed to figure out what to do with and for this Isabella. She sighed then began the change, deciding that the coydog wouldn’t be a threat mid-transformation, since she hadn’t attacked anyway. She was still uncomfortable as her limbs and spine lengthened and she eventually rose on two legs. If anything, with her cropped mane and still slightly feral pleasure, she looked even scruffier.

She gestured with a white hand to the neutral lands. “There is space in the Dampwoods to cross,” she said, remembering what the woman had first said about Inferni taking up land. She spoke in a tone that she hoped made her dismissal polite, then added, “I’m Vesper. And I can show you the way, if you’d like—to Halifax. It might not be swarming with luperci, but there are those who explore it and might come across your shop.”

And then the question she’d been cautious about asking: “What is your trade, anyway?”

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