The soft warm breeze rustled through the tree tops causing the branches to rub against each other sensually, creating a heat of their own. The sickle moon hung low in the sky this night, the stars still hid behind the light of the setting sun. The world was quiet, save for the movement of small night fauna rising from their sleep, the air smelled of warm earth and sea water. It was in this scene that a figure came forth from the tree line followed by the black as night quadruped that she had called her soul companion for more than a week’s journey. Over the breeze now the sound of soft humming and footfalls could be heard as the figure neared the borders.

It was obvious this figure had been traveling for quite some time; a cloak was draped about her shoulders and she used a scythe as a walking stick, its blade glinted in the remaining sunlight. Around her arms shined clasps of gold, her hair braided in long strands in front of her. The wolf-dog female slowed for a moment and turned a fringed ear back towards the horse. The large dark stallion that she lead behind her was laden down with packages and bags, white sweat beaded up on his haunches like hot frost. “Not much longer my friend…” she encouraged.

Zera’im had been on the move for a fortnight and she finally was reaching her destination; Salsola. She had heard its name on the wind at night and knew the spirits were moving her there, and the spirits were amaranthine in their wisdom. Here she would settle, if accepted, and focus on the spiritual needs of the inhabitants. It would be good for her soul, and for theirs. The nearly silent sound of wings moving through the air caused the collie to look up just in time to see the ghostly visage of her spirit guide owl fly above her, gazing down with coal eyes. The raptor gave a soft “Hoo” before alighting into the trees and this both calmed and gave vigor to Zera. This was good, even her guide had shown it to be so.

Zera’im stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes she raised her hands to the sky and stood motionless for a moment, in deep prayer. After finishing she crossed herself and looked back at her stallion who muttered at her. She laughed, her voice tinkled like bells in the dusk, and then she gave out a deep and throaty howl of summoning.

Zera could sense the woman’s approach before she could see her and as she appeared Zera half-lidded her brown eye and set full gaze on the coyote female with her evil eye. As she grew nearer she returned both eyes to their regular position, this one was of no danger to her, in fact she sensed a kindred spirit here, though a hesitant one. Zera’im noticed her paws, her tattoos and markings and the way she shifted the skull she was wearing, she also noticed that this was no coyote though that fact was desperately trying to be hidden behind sly genetics. Zera’im bent her knees slightly and lowered her regal head down in submission.

She recognized this golden female’s markings, they were of Aztecan origin, she had read about them many times in a human book back in her youth. The most notable mark Zera could see upon the woman was the snake eating its own tale, a sign of the infinite destruction and renewal of the earth. “Greetings daughter of the snake, I have come to join your great pack of Salsola.” Simply stated, as Zera’im felt this girl would respond to more favorably if there were less words to confuse the night time. Zera looked back up and turned her head slightly to now gaze more intensely at the coywolf with her good eye and she was glad with what she saw, Quimby gave a almost unnoticeable cry of approval from the treetops.

The collie-wolf noticed the dripping carcass of the rabbit in the Salsola member’s hand and recognized it immediately as a sacrifice. So this girl was a spiritual one. Zera wondered which lesser spirit she would be offering this to, as the Great Spirit no longer required blood offerings. Korosk shifted lazily behind her and Zera placed a soft padded paw against his warm neck.

The golden coy woman seemed surprised at Zera’s speech, but it should not have been so. It did not take a Seer such as herself to be keen to notice this woman’s nature. A learned individual could have made a guess as to the culture of her scars. Charlatans had done similar in the past, pulling the wool over the eyes of unsuspecting simple minds who lined up to buy whichever snake oil the so called wise men were selling. But there was no underhandedness in Zera’im’s ways, she lacked the ability to take advantage of others. What she offered was the truth, or what little of the truth she knew.

The pack female put Zera’im in her place and the collie put a hand to her chest in a sign of shame, “How impertinent of me, I apologize for being so demanding.” She straightened and looked calmly into the face of the woman in front of her, mismatched eyes seemingly staring into her soul, “I am called Zera’im. I am a woman who speaks with the spirits and who also listens. They have guided me here and it is unwise to disobey them.” As she spoke, the breeze picked up and swept lose leaves into the air in front of her, she took a deep breath. It sometimes was dangerous to rouse the spirits names in conversation.

Zera watched in silence as the coy-wolf paced in front of her. Zera could almost see into her, like she was no more than frosted glass. She could see the fire within her, it burned like an ember, white hot and elusive. This was a gifted woman, the spirits had blessed her with an aura that shamed others. Zera’im closed her eyes as the woman spoke, trying to dull her senses lest she be caught up in the life-force of this being. She had asked a question, a question that Zera could not truly answer. She let out the smallest of sighs before replying, “That is not the question you should ask. What should be asked is why you have come here to meet me. Our paths have been ordained to intertwine; soon the answer will be revealed to us.” She turned her head to look up at the sickle moon, “Perhaps the sky spirit Luna has made this come to pass. In her waning she has birthed this encounter from the womb of the night.”