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Eris is by James!
The dark-furred woman leaned back and away as Tlantli drew her close, speaking in low tones. Even in a whisper, her voice carried in the cavernous and open walls of the supper hall. Eris's eyes darted away from Tlantli desperately, seeking anyone and anyone around them. There was no one, and she did not wish to summon the pack -- what of the flaxen coyote decided she was better off becoming a murderer than risking death? Panic rose in Eris, and she writhed, trying to pull away. Tlantli held her and spoke sinisterly, words that struck the very core of the shadow-furred woman. Her eyes widened in fear and her lips drew back in a snarl, her pink tongue licking over her lips.
Tlantli finished speaking and released her. Eris stumbled with the force of the woman's shove, catching her balance a moment later. The wheaten-furred coyote had begun to walk away, and Eris had no coherent response to her words. Fine. Abandon your pack in wartime. You are a betrayer, pentiti, she called to the woman's retreating back, watching the snake tattoo shift and move with Tlantli's pace. The woman did not turn around, and the word sounded hollow to even Eris's ears. How can you walk away? We are fighting unknown enemies, armed ones! Anger boiled within Eris, and her lips drew back in a snarl. Bitch, she hissed, finally reduced to mindless insults.
Why?
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