(307) Actually, she might end up liking Zeneca. @_@ Depends where Zen directs her fiesty attitude; if they end up killing something together, for example, to vent Eris's tensions...?
Eris is by James!
The dark-furred woman had but one bright spot in this pit of misery: Horse. Horse was hers now, the big-boned, sturdy mare, with her golden temperament. Eris had never seen the blonde-maned equine so much as snort at anything in anxiety, let alone shy away -- this was good for one reason. She needed to find Molcaxitl. The slave had been gone for some time now -- just how long, Eris was not sure. Perhaps before Larkspur's funeral? Shortly thereafter? In either case, the coydog was gone, and the dark-furred Auxiliary did not know where she had gone.
Scowling, she pulled Horse to a stop, peering through the gloom, trying to remember it was not Larkspur who had taught her the basics of riding, that it was not Larkspur's horse she rode upon. The mare stood stock-still, obedient to the sable woman's every command, though she was not a good rider in the least. There wasn't the least sign of her slave, and the hybrid huffed through her muzzle in annoyance, though the sound was not quite so loud as she was annoyed. These outlands might still be dangerous, but that was why she was on horseback.
The sable-hued hybrid heard the distinctive noises of an approach through the evening, and she peered through the low-hanging fog, seemingly ever-present in this corner of the world. The sharper sound of a voice, followed by a quieter reply. Then the sharp voice again -- that was a sound that the dark-furred coyote recognized as one wielding power, and used to it. She drove the horse forward, intending to cut them off before they reached Salsola's lands. Horse obeyed, moving from stillness to a walk and then a quick trot, seemingly indifferent to this new master upon her back.
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