history is written by the victors

Myrika Tears · 02-19-2012, 09:50 AM

[html]

Myrika is by Alaine!

The rusty-furred woman nodded and set to work preparing the fire, dipping into the front hall of the schoolhouse to draw out a few logs. The stack was close enough to the door one needed only lean through the busted-out hole where a window had once been. Myrika had taken care to cover the open spaces with flaps of leather -- not good leather, of course, but passable flaps of skin nonetheless. As she spread kindling around the fire's base and spruced it up around the bigger logs and sticks, Vesper inquired on Inferni's reputation. Myrika tilted her head, thinking on the question a moment. It was strange to speak of times when she was no member of Inferni -- but this had been her job, and she was supposed to be an authority on these matters, after all.

I think so. Kaena told me when Inferni formed, coyotes had been causing trouble for the packs, so... the coyote said, shrugging a shoulder. Her blue-green eyes did not turn toward Vesper, but neither was she faced entirely away from the scarred woman -- the mahogany-haired woman kept her Optio in her peripheral vision, ready to turn and look at the woman if the need arose. For the moment, though, the fire held most of her attention. Sparking it with a few quick flicks of steel against a flint stone, the hybrid carried on with her answer. I guess we just got off on the wrong foot there. Even I was told of Inferni's violent tendencies -- my own dad gave me many warnings. It was, perhaps, no wonder she'd spend long months pondering whether or not to come to this place.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?