and the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
When the furtive smile leapt onto her mottled sister’s lips, Vesper frowned and twitched an ear. Upon hearing the description that had led her to Nova Scotia, her blue eyes sparkled devilishly, and a smirk crawled across her narrow muzzle. She was somewhat pleased to have had a reputation, although she could have just as easily run into a loner that spoke of a cocky coywolf who’d failed miserably in combat. Many of the wolves she challenged batted her away when she was younger.
“There are so many questions I want to ask about that encounter,” the coywolf said playfully, wondering if she’d remember who she’d beaten; probably not, considering how selfish she used to be. She dropped her amused look and nodded lightly as her sister thanked her again. “You’re welcome,” she managed, more to make her sister drop the subject than anything; she was uncomfortable because she didn’t feel like she deserved such gratitude. After all, Sparrow had little else to thank her for in life, unless one counted deigning to help feed her when they were young.
The mottled female spoke shyly about the clan members she met, and Vesper understood the feeling of not wanting to quite call them friends yet. It was overwhelming for a loner to adjust to pack life, and even then friendship wasn’t always easy.
She laughed at her sister’s remark. “Yeah, much nicer.” She smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t want to be our enemies, though.” Her lips drooped slightly as she admitted, “But Inferni had a lot of war in its past. Even before these strangers. It all happened way before my time, though.” She didn’t want to scare her sister, but the fact of the matter was that the coyote clan would always find trouble. At least she had faith in the warriors that defended it.
When the question was turned back onto her, she was caught off guard and had to grope for an answer. “Me… I have friends. Helotes is one of the Hydras, a scary warrior who makes a great drinking and sparring buddy.” She smirked faintly. “Then… Well, then there are my scouts. I do my best to look after them, and they’re great, the younger ones are. And…” Her mind flickered to Myrika, and her embarrassment was obvious in the downward tilt of her burning ear.
vessie blusssshhh
table by raze; pattern by dinpattern
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