OoC: Mind if I join?

He stank of death, his eyes glazed over with madness. His paw was bloodied was sharp ice, but he did not care. He stared blankly, lost in some fantasy, ignorant of his needs and how he appeared to others. From where Rewdeynetya had come, some might have said he had wandered around in the desert too long; the rows of dunes and lack of water could drive a beast mad. But no, it appeared that his ailment had settled in his mind for a while.

Her lip curled upwards in disgust. It wouldn't be long before the winter claimed his body and soul, the frozen earth taking in his body when it thawed. The snow would cover him in a respectful sheet, and he would be nothing more. She watched, ever careful, from her hiding spot further back. The smell of coyote was strong in the air, and she was uncomfortable from being so close to a pack's lands. Despite his apparent insanity, the creature looked carefully at the spiked border, weighing his options. In that clouded gaze, Rewdeynetya could see understanding and judgment. He was lucky to still have that much.

When he moved away, still lost in his own world, she followed. It was unlike Rewdeynetya, but she wondered if she could con something off of the sickly loner. It wasn't likely someone was waiting for him; common sense and practise dictated the leaving behind of sick pack members. (At least, that was a lifestyle the jackal-wolf was familiar with.) Perhaps she could play into his dreaming mind, his sickly reality, and he might lead her to some food or weapons. With her current stroke of luck, she hadn't been finding much, and had been forced to abandon Cheval Island after a particularly severe snowstorm. The winter was too harsh to be living on the fringe, and out of need, she had been driven closer to the claimed territories. If Rewdeynetya was to survive, she had to even out the competition.

OoC: n/a

He spoke in madness, his eyes close to being wild. Almost raspy to her, betraying his weakness, the mongrel spoke of hellfire. Damnation? Rewdeynetya was disgusted. Had he lived in her Egypt, with its civil wars and constant back-stabbing among the packs, he wouldn't have survived a day. Had there not been more Luperci around — their smells filled the area like a fog — she would have dealt with him already.

And he was a father, too. Rewdeynetya could have laughed, but her long muzzle kept shut. Compared to the sickly, scarred, tawny mess that was her sire, she was dark, a blood-like splash on her muzzle. Her body was of no particular type, seemingly shaped from a multitude of breeds that ran in her parentage. She seemed to be greying out, her eyes almost the colour of her father's — at least, to Rewdeynetya, it appeared so. Her voice was kindly, accented...Egyptian?!

Rewdeynetya suppressed a growl. Until now, not one member of her homeland had she come across, the she-hybrid believing that she was alone. Her name was infamous, stained with treason from her turncoat beliefs and practises. If someone was familiar with her, then her existence could be put at risk. Maybe the mutt's madness had somehow been caused by her — the various Luperci along the Nile had done much to get the jump on their competition. Rewdeynetya had once been proud to be responsible for that, but now, she was just afraid.

She pulled back into the woods slowly, never taking her eyes off the conversing pair. She'd see where the conversation would head; after that, she'd either spring or flee, depending on how close the fellow Egyptian remained. That dark-skinned girl seemed quite fond of her insane father, and Rewdeynetya didn't want to interrupt the family reunion. There was more than one way to thin a pack, so to speak.