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Ithiel is by me!
Sepirah shrugged and stepped back, smiling still. Or not, she murmured, holding up one hand in a gesture of peacefulness. Her smile was amused; Sepirah was not easily intimidated by Ithiel, and she'd learned quickly how best to deal with him. Ithiel himself was not long in snarling; his countenance had returned to its usual stone-faced neutral. He considered Rémy Lebeau, the skilled coy-dog who had been within Inferni longer than Ithiel and Sepirah both. The dusky-furred hybrid was preparing to agree with Sepirah's proposal when noises from the inside of the house caught his attention. He swiveled his head and watched Emmanuelle emerge from the mansion, wildcats in tow.
Ithiel de le Poer, he said, introducing himself with a step forward. She asked for Sepirah's staff, and Ithiel's red gaze flickered to his cousin, curious. He remembered this blonde-haired woman from the attacks on the clan: he and Myrika had helped bring her to safety. It was not, as she'd said, a formal introduction: the blonde-haired coyote had been half-conscious and in pain, and so meeting Ithiel clearly hadn't been her highest priorty. For her part, Sepirah nodded and smiled, trotting the staff over toward the newcomer. She held it out with a slim arm and glanced back to Ithiel, using her opposite hand to rub at her shoulder in an exaggerrated fashion.,
Please do, the hybrid said, her voice thick with the accent of her mother tongue. Don't look to him for any mercy, though, she added, shivering and grinning toward Ithiel. He remained still, giving no reaction to her jest, but Sepi laughed quietly all the same. The dark-hued jackal settled down to the porch so she might watch, glancing with big golden eyes toward Emmanuelle.
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