Vesper wasn’t quite worried about being attacked by the female she had scented. First of all, she was quite confident in her own abilities in a fight—as well as her abilities to escape if the situation became too much for her to handle. While her common sense often lapsed as her pride took over, she could intelligently assess a situation before she got angry. And she knew a couple of routes that could get her quickly out of Halifax, having explored the city a few inches at a time earlier in the day.

There was a small bark in return to hers, however, and the hybrid stood on the cushion and let her tail swing leisurely and low behind her. It looked promising that she’d have a decent conversation, as long as this female was intelligent. Even beauty—if this woman was beautiful up close—wouldn’t excuse someone for lacking brains.

The dark optime-formed wolf walked forward, and Vesper let her blue eyes scan the canine a little more closely. She was large and strong, showing that she’d at least worked in her life rather than lounging around prettily. Her dark fur was flecked with greys and silvers across her back, which was interesting, and golden bracelets wrapped around the curves of her wrists and thighs.

The coywolf let her tongue flit across her lips, not quite sure how she felt about the woman in that form, and pricked her ears when she spoke, introducing herself as Silyva Sapphire.

“I’m Vesper,” she replied, smirking slightly. It wasn’t a rude or very amused smirk, but rather a smile that couldn’t quite get there. She reserved smiles for only good friends or special situations, and most acquaintances didn’t cut it. Glancing up into the pretty liquid gold eyes, she wondered what else to say or do; she certainly didn’t feel like jumping off the couch to further draw attention to her small size. Besides, her leg was still somewhat weak from the bear attack.

“You smell like—well—did you meet a weasel recently?” Vesper sounded less than confident for once in her life, mostly because she didn’t want Silyva to take the question the wrong way. She could definitely smell something—maybe mink or marten?

Vesper shifted her weight on the tattered couch cushion, and her weakened leg protested with a burning pain that crawled into her muscles. She winced, as much as she tried to hide it, but her expression became composed afterward. She didn’t want the dark optime female to know that she was injured; she had met few wolves who wouldn’t take advantage of that fact in some form. Still, it was hard to deny that she could use something to make sure there wasn’t an infection. She only had that one bite from the bear, and it hadn’t broken the bone, but keeping it clean was an issue sometimes.

Silyva laughed at her sheepish question, and the coywolf lowered her ears. She was glad that it hadn’t been taken the wrong way, at least, and she tilted her head curiously when the dark woman explained she had a marten as a companion. Like Tobias is Niro’s companion? the tawny hybrid wondered, remembering the hawk-man’s explanation of their partnership. She couldn’t see a marten doing much that a wolf couldn’t, though, but it would be nice to have someone to keep you company, canine or not. She frowned and leaned forward, sniffing, when the small animal was brought out of a bag. It nipped its owner rebelliously and slipped back into the warmth.

“How did you get her?” Vesper asked, wondering if she’d captured the animal. It wasn’t tame enough to be completely obedient, which was fine, but it did seem to like the comfort of the bag rather than trying to escape into the woods. “Does she help you hunt?” It was clear that the young woman didn’t know very much about companion animals, but she’d grown up seeing martens and hawks as competition and their young as possible meals. Then again, that white wolf Leigha had ridden a horse, a dumb prey animal if Ves had ever seen one.

Silvya blurted out a sudden apology, which made Ves prick her ears in disbelief. What was there to be sorry for? She blinked when the dark shape began to crumple, limbs shortening and body compacting, falling down onto four legs. It was a process still alien and painful-looking to the non-luperci, and she had to turn her eyes away.

The black female explained that she hadn’t met a non-luperci, and the coywolf snorted. “Doesn’t matter what form you’re in,” she muttered, but she had to admit she was more comfortable seeing the woman like this; it seemed more natural. She eased gently off the couch, landing as softly as she could and keeping her slightly injured leg from bearing her full weight. The rest of her body was rather tense, her eyes sizing the difference between them, but it was no longer as ridiculous as if the female had been in her secui or optime forms.

“Besides, if you’re born like that, you might as well take advantage of it,” Vesper added, shrugging. She knew that she would probably be on two legs right now if she’d been born with the genes, but her parents hadn’t been luperci to her knowledge. If they had, she probably would have been one, and they wouldn’t be having this conversation.

“Anyway, I’m not that different from you.” This firm statement was called into question by a brief glance back at her own small body, and she clarified, “Mentally, at least. I can survive and you can survive; we just do so in different ways.”

Silyva smiled faintly at her question, explaining how she’d rescued the marten and the bond that they shared. When she described how she used Rina as a distraction while hunting, Vesper nodded in obvious approval, her tail swishing behind her on the seat cushion. That would be a perfect use for such a small critter—that and spying, but the dark female didn’t look like the type who’d get into things like that! She smirked at the thought.

“Nice to meet you, Rina,” the coyote hybrid said to the bag, teasing.

She fell silent and lowered her ears slightly after Silyva assured her that she preferred a four-legged form. Remembering Zalen, she nodded slightly in understanding then looked away when Silyva inferred that standing over her would’ve made her uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it bothers me sometimes,” Vesper admitted, looking at her paws for a moment. “I’m sorry for snapping at you; you were only trying to be considerate.” Such polite words were rarely given lightly, but she actually wanted this meeting to work as much as the other did. It had been too long since she’d had nice, lighthearted conversation with another canine.

“Have you been in Nova Scotia long?” she ventured to ask. “You don’t smell like you belong to a pack.”