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WC: 473
I live my life in bitterness and fill my heart with emptiness
Sparrow was more anxious than usual. Though the threat of the Boreas wolves has long disappeared, the memory of them still haunted her in the waking hours. The problem was easily solved, however, with solo patrols along the wooden claim of Inferni’s territory, sometimes even doing so at night just to quell some sort of paranoid urge. But, no matter how much she snaked along the edges of the clan’s borders, she found no peace. Perhaps she was thinking of further troubles, that the Boreas had convinced others of coyotes’ blasphemy that was labeled against them the moment they were born. That fear fueled her daily leavings of the territory to see if she could right whatever wrong they made with measly trades and good-willed conversations, like that day.
She did not plan to conceive any trades that day, most of her furs now going towards cloaks for the dog-man she had met the other day, but she brought along her bag full of various meats nonetheless, thinking she could share a meal with whomever she met. She found that because of her fear of Inferni’s bad reputation, she was becoming more social, her speaking skills more refined and becoming that of a normal person’s. She still had a long way to go before she’ll ever be able to speak confidently, but at least she saw the path before her. The thought inspired her to leave the safety of Inferni every time she stepped out of it.
It was not long until she scented a lone wolf—she knew the smells of the surrounding packs by then, having at least ghosted by their territory at least once. She became slightly wary, but the faintest sounds of singing seemed to calm her down a little; if they were the Boreas, they would never be singing, or at least the idea was unimaginable. As she approached, she saw the figure that had made the singing up close. It was a rather tall wolfess, her fur black as a river, though as she stepped closer, noticed that is was mottled with brown. Despite the fact she did not seem to be hostile, she was a bit nervous to talk to her.
“G-greetings,” she called out, her voice soft so that in hopes it would not scare her too much, if not at all. Then she noticed the whale—which just spooked her out of her wits, causing her to jump and to take a few steps back. “W-w-what is that?” Sparrow asked nervously, her hands too shaky to raise a finger at the creature, though she was certain that the she-wolf knew what she was talking about. That is, unless the hybrid was imagining things and the whale wasn’t real at all, though she wished that was not true despite the unreality of a floating porpoise.