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Hmm. Yes -- it would tie into her reasoning for wanting to fake the mateship? :3 Unless it'd be easier on you for him not to know. o: Small powerplay of arm-holding, if isn't okay, lemme know and I'll edit. 
Tlantli is by Alaine!
The pale coyote nodded as he mentioned the sister-canine. Tlantli had little care where she was concerned -- so long as she did not interfere with the flaxen Family member's planning, she was essentially irrelevant, at least with regard to Tla. The woman peered out to inspect the staff, but before she could reply, Ezequiel stepped forward, sliding toward her. He was of a height comparable to her own, but built just slightly more thickly than she -- though he seemed to be composed of similar sharp lines and lean structure, his lent toward true masculinity, while hers possessed the accursed curves and softness of feminity.
The sharp tips of her teeth showed in a fierce grin, and she moved just slightly closer, enough so that she might slide her arm beneath his, displaying their closeness with the demure air expected of them at first. She had explained they might fail -- but she thought otherwise. Eris was, if nothing else, willing to read into the signs where there was no truth, creating her own as she went along. They only needed to suggest mateship to their Auxiliary, and she would do most of the talking. The flaxen coyote was most assured of this, for she knew the ways the false priests and priestesses of the world -- no matter their faith -- operated.
Your gift is well-chosen. She likes pretty things, and she likes things she can give some belief to, the woman said, her voice soft. She did not intend Ezequiel to infer her meaning to be the staff was without its power, but she hoped he might understand this place was faith-misguided. Nevertheless, the rest of Salsola was strong -- perhaps in time, they'd see the inclinations of their Auxiliary for the folly they were. Tlantli hoped Salvia might usurp the position of her mother someday, for she was one to lead Salsola from darkness, if any other. We are ready, I think. Just let her talk -- she likes that, the hybrid said, shrugging.
The yellow-furred woman lifted her muzzle to the sky and issued a sharp cry, beckoning their Auxiliary to attend her on the outskirts of the pack. Tlantli herself was nervous, but she hoped it did not show in the coolness of her demeanor. They both played with fire, but she hoped the advance would prove worthwhile to Ezequiel, and furthermore, she hoped it would allow her to continue her own planning undisturbed.
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