(--) goopy stuff is hard to write 
Myrika is by Kiri!
Myri knew she would not be able to do this on her lonesome. She needed Vesper, she needed Ithiel, she needed the old woman and the blind woman and the children in her home. The rest of the clan, too -- what was a leader without followers, after all? The world was full of would-be conquerors and emperors with a single tattered follower and no influences. She must not forget the individuals of the clan: they were what made Inferni, after all.
When Vesper scooted around and set her paws on Myrika's shoulders, the redhead grinned more happily and easily than she had since entering the cave, and her hands went to the woman's forelegs, running over the smooth fur and knotted scar tissue both. Her smile wavered a little, though, when she thought of the history book and how much bloodshed was written into those pages.
I hope so, she said. Despite her half-mast ears, her voice was steady and without dread. But we'll have to hope our chapter's less bloody than the rest. She did hope so, of course, but hope did not make her an optimist, either.
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