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Myrika is by me!
A forgotten, presumed dead part of her wanted to chide her sister for even having gotten out of the saddle in the first place, but even gentle rebuke had no place here. Whatever she had learned of confidence was reduced to quivering tension, a strange feeling of palpable relief accompanied by faint dread for what must soon come in the way of conversation and knowledge. Let me help you back up, she said, and stood, to provide leverage to help the pale coyote into the saddle. Her movements had the slow and pained look that reminded Myrika absurdly of Kaena.
Shuffling back a half-step awkwardly, her nose finally overwhelmed with the myriad of scents of decay, fear, and old blood. She kept her nose still and the skin of her muzzle flat and expressionless by force of will only, and turned her head to stare for Cahal. The horse stood beside a tall pine tree, well below its lowest boughs. Though the tawny coyote called to him by name and made all manner of appeasing sounds and motions, the horse would not approach. Even as Myrika walked toward him, he snorted and tossed his head, prancing away from her. She, too, was now accompanied by those scents.
Defeated, the woman returned to her Cassandra and gave a shrug of her shoulders. The seating arrangements made with awkward and halting conversation, Myri now looked at the pale golden horse skeptically. When she got into saddle, however, the animal held their weight, and started forward with only a nudge from Myri. Then it was only to decide where they were going. The hybrid first considered the sea, for she wanted nothing more than to ride the horse into the waves and roll around in the water, but headed toward her home instead. If she had any clearness of thought, she might have at least stopped at the hospital house first, but there was no such consideration within her head.
Cahal trailed after them by some distance, occasionally whinnying his distress. Myri drove the strange mount onward at a hurried pace, though she dared not urge her faster than a walk due to the clinging presence at her back. If a fall was not among the most painful things for a sprained ankle, it might break the already swollen joint. She dared not speak, for she did not know what to say, though she considered pretending as if what she might say was too important to speak to a horse's neck, without looking on her sister's face. In the distance, the low, barely red glow of a dying fire was the only indication of the schoolhouse for some time, until the building loomed up out of the shadows. Myri considered its brick front and the embers of Kaena's fire, thankful no one had decided to hang up any skulls around her home. There was at least that.
Of the old woman, there was no sign. The seat she'd occupied was empty, and Myrika found she was relieved for that when she slid down and out of the saddle, turning immediately to aid Cassie down as well.
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