Mid-morning, Serene Sands. All welcome for Anathema; there's a bit of blood on the ground from the spar between Miqui and Tlantli, and her knuckles are bruised/bleeding.
Form: Optime

Her brother's jaws snapped closed beneath the force of the golden coyote's elbow. What had started out as a friendly spar had turned into a bloody competition. Miqui grappled with his younger sibling, crushing her smaller torso in dark and muscular arms; she gave an exasperated gasp for air before directing an open-palm blow to the side of his face. The oldest Kimaris male staggered backward, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the ground. "Carajo, Tlantli!" She gave an emotionless grin. "Usted nunca será capaz de golpearme, Miqui." Her words were factual; he'd never beaten her in the past.

The smaller woman helped her towering brother to his feet, patting his shoulder with the most sympathetic of touches. He looked annoyed, truly annoyed, and it only served to cause her to smile even more. Miqui was a warrior, yet his sister always found it simple to defeat him. Perhaps he didn't try hard enough against her. A glare twisted his fiery eyes from affectionate to irate. That was common. "Sometimes I don' think you play fair, Tla." His sister gave a chuckle. "Aye always play faihr." She turned from him and paced away a few steps before sitting; Miqui shook his head, stalking off in the direction of the caves. The female hefted a sigh from her lungs. What a giant baby.

The Spanish creature watched the sea as her mind played back the spar with her larger sibling, searching for where he went wrong and where she succeeded. What could she do better? How could she shape her abilities into something that was unsurpassed? How could Tlantli, hybrid daughter of Metetztli in the once-pure house of Kimaris, make herself better? It was a question always on her mind. She wondered in silence how to make her father proud. The family had lost a lot of pride in the death of Astaroth, and there was only truly Tlantli to keep the real line going. Miqui and Imacai didn't seem to have what it took, and who knew where Xochime had disappeared to. Another sigh rose and fell, entering the word as her irritation at her life bubbled upwards.

Much to her displeasure, she was caught off-guard by another member of her home. The authoritative hello caused the coyote to turn, one eyebrow raising as she studied the female who approached. She had never met this woman, yet she smelled familiar and it left Tlantli vaguely amused. "What do you want." Her own words were simple, firm and demanding as her arms crossed before her chest. It wasn't that she lacked social skills or an enjoyment of social interaction, but more that she did not succumb to wolves who held no position of power in her life. Naniko, the beautiful white creature who had accepted her into the family, was looked upon as a leader. Others, however, went unnoticed until they proved useful. In a world so different from Eternian life, there was no better way conduct her life.