Word Count :: 342 deeeeeerrrr

Late as it was, sleep would not come to the scarred hybrid. She was old now, but sleeping problems were nothing new to the coyote -- she had been nocturnal most of her life, and she doubted this would change anytime soon. Kaena no longer cared whether it was natural or normal to be one way or the other -- indifference had taken over her in one mighty wave in the fall (she referred to only one particular autumn season as “the fall”), and she had realized such trivial things truly did not matter. In the fit of insomnia, the silver-shaded hybrid decided she would do as she always did -- patrol the borders. She might have tried the herb; it seemed a pleasant remedy for nearly everything, but she did not want to increase her tolerance and end up in pain from the arthritis again. So, she had abstained from touching the stuff and instead set upon the borders.

The clan had not had many newcomers to their midst lately, but in very recent memory, two had showed up. They had come within a short span of one another, and to the scarred woman this meant more should arrive, sooner or later. She had learned of the waves of newcomers followed by periods of silence, and so she had increased her own border patrol. Her conspiracy theories needn't be shared with the rest of the clan, of course. They didn't need to add strain to their routine for some old coot's crackpot ideas. Still, despite whatever faith the hybrid had in patterns, she did not necessarily expect anyone -- and so it was a pleasant surprise when she tracked the scent of someone unfamiliar in the air. Heading toward this scent with near-foresight of how the situation would unfold -- like any other newcomer who sought refuge within Inferni and anywhere else, she assumed -- the scarred hybrid did not have to walk long before her one-eyed gaze fell upon this newcomer.

“Need something?” she asked, practiced indifference on her tone.

Word Count :: 324

Many were curious about the bleached-white things that lined their borders; it might seem that this was counterproductive to their aim, as the skulls were intended primarily to frighten those who would trespass away. However, those that were most curious about Inferni's borderlands and their macabre decor generally seemed to be those least interested in trespassing. In the one-eyed woman's mind, as long as they stayed on the other side with their curiosity, there was nothing wrong with it. She shrugged one of her lean shoulders, studying him with her golden-yellow eye.

“Only if they cross this invisible line here,” she said, referring to the border. Inferni had taken care to make sure their border was extra visible, but even then, the skulls did not make it perfectly clear where the border ended and began. They were plentiful in the forest but outside of it there was only a sparse skull here and there, stuck atop a pike with several hundred feet between them. Kaena had long given up contemplating the why of trespassers; such a debate was pointless in the end. The why did not matter; it was a question that would never have a satisfactory answer.

“We're used to trespassers, so we've been sticking skulls on our borders for years now,” she said, thinking the tradition extended back to 2006 or 2007 at least. This was as complex an explanation as she would give -- there was more history and culture behind it, of course, but it was too long of a story to tell here when there were more important matters. “Are you here to join up with us?” she said, figuring the obvious but not wishing to assume anything. She had been wrong before, after all. Drifters and passerby were not altogether uncommon. Though he did not smell like anywhere else she recognized, and he looked to be a coyote, he might truly be simply curious of the skulls along their border.

Word Count :: 340

Whether it was nice or not, the silver-shaded hybrid could not say. She had always been a creature motivated by vengeance, and so in her mind, it was perfectly justifiable. Tact and niceness were another matter entirely, however -- somewhere outside the realm of morality, that pesky think manners came into play. The old woman had developed some over her long years, to be certain, but she was not the queen of nice. This much was obvious -- the only canines who received and saw her true favor and whatever soft side she possessed were those she shared blood with. Love had escaped her or died on her too many times to be open to this anymore, but the lines between those two kinds of love had become blended in some instances anyway.

“They asked for it, I think,” she said. True, not every skul decoraing their borders came from trespassers -- some were war trophies, some were simply unfortunate dead picked off by a hopeful Inferni canine hoping to impress the Legatus, others were not even canine skulls at all. She herself had found an old human skull, entombed in a casket as to keep from crumbling to dust, and she had perched it up on their borders. For the first time, the silver-shaded woman cracked a smile with her yellowed and worn teeth. “You don't like our border practices, though. Surely it's an offense to your morals and all,” she said, a statement mostly intended in jest -- however, like anything stated on the edge of the territory, it was feeling for a reaction, testing him.

“Kaena Lykoi, of Inferni,” the woman said, introducing herself and the clan quickly. It was not obvious from her Optime posture of her rank; there was a relaxed nature to the old woman's frame that spoke only of ease and a well-cemented place within the clan. “What do you do?” she asked, in a tone that indicated she desired skills useful to her clan rather than just what he liked to do.

Word Count :: 307 hurf

The Centurion was somehow glad and disappointed at once when the stranger did not debate their gruesome practices. She enjoyed dissent, to some extent, and there was never a time when she did not enjoy getting steadily more proud of her pack, more angry with those who questioned or insulted Inferni. This one did not seem interested in either, however -- there was a sense about him that was indifferent, as well. Carefree as she was on the perimeter of Inferni's land, maybe this one drifted through life in total indifference. “Good answer,” she allowed, an allowing tone rather than an impressed one. She would not be easily swooned on the borders -- even those who claimed to want to immediately shed blood for the clan were not always trusted or believed by the old woman. Blood turned on blood sometimes, after all -- who was to say outsiders would be any less likely to do so?

Still, she was not nearly as discriminatory as one might have thought, considering her attachment and arrogance when it came to her family and blood. Outsiders were simply asked more questions than her family, which was welcomed with open arms -- the silver-shaded woman did not recall the last time she had turned away someone from their borders for active dislike of that canine. “Plants,” she repeated slowly. “Healing plants, plants you smoke, poisonous plants?” she prompted, wondering which of the above -- or which of the many others -- it might be. To her knowledge they had a few that dabbled in the first art, more than enough with the second (although, with their consumption rates, they might need more, too), and none in the third category. It mattered little -- with ample room in the greenhouse, they would not turn away one with the ability to cultivate well.

Word Count :: 314

Or that -- the silvery coyote had not expected one who was well-versed in all of the above, and she looked at him with an approving, single eye. The sharp thing in his mouth caught her attention, but she thought it might be rude to ask -- the last person she had known with a piercing on or near their mouth had been Vieira, and that had been a mark of slavery, no doubt. The scarred hybrid did lean back, however, seeming to consider for a moment. There was never too much eagerness in her when accepting a newcomer; she did not think it was prudent to allow them to think they were a priority unless they were severely injured. Then it didn't much matter what they thought -- Kaena figured anyone lucky enough to have their sorry hides saved in such a time of need would owe something in return. She'd feel that way, anyway, and maybe she projected that onto everyone else.

“Lucky, we have a greenhouse here,” the hybrid explained, figuring his all-around knowledge with plants would make good use of such a place. At the very least, it would spark his curiosity, or so she hoped. “Come on,” the coyote added, indicating it was, indeed, now safe for him to cross the borders. “You won't lose your head.” This was said with a sort of sharp sweetness, and the hybrid lifted her arm to point, indicating the D'Neville first. “Mansion is that way, you can hole up in a room there. Or the caves are that way,” she continued, swinging her arm to point in the other direction. “A lot of the clan lives over there, but a few are up in the mansion, too,” the hybrid said. She liked to let newcomers know where they could stay, of course -- she figured most would be pretty lost, after all.