Myrika is by Bobbi!

The coyote clan's territory was not a mystery to Myrika anymore, and she walked its perimeter with confidence, the route burned into her mind. She had been here since the end of summer, since the world had warmth still left in it. Now, the winter's cold bit into her thin coyote's fur and made her shiver. These days, she wore her handkerchiefs around her neck, wrapped as tightly as she could bear. The rust-hued woman was thinking about some sort of scarf. It wouldn't be too difficult to make -- the problem was finding a strip of pelt long enough. The only animal Myrika thought might be acceptable was a bear. Most others she had considered would result in a too-short scarf.

The russet-shaded woman moved quietly through the copse of thick forest stretching around the River Acheron's bend. The summer's crickets had died off en-masse, leaving behind a queer silence, one that discomforted the red-haired woman. She was not accustomed to the way the world died when winter came. She had experienced two winters before, both of which she remembered well. This would be her third. The rusty coyote winced at that realization -- where had her years gone? She had been a child, little more than a year old, when they had departed Thornloe. Two years had passed in that time, and the rusty hybrid had been in Inferni only a few months. All the time she'd wasted...

There was no regaining it, however, and even less point in dwelling over what she could not change. The coyote crept to a fallen tree, slinking over its trunk and settling rather near the roots. How simple life would be if she could dig a den here and live in her four-legged form, relinquishing the advantage of this body for the simplicity of her species' ancestral lives. A smile lifted one corner of the rusty womans mouth upward, and she shook her head slowly, as if rejecting the idea then and there. No matter how much simpler that lifestyle might seem to be, Myrika would not trade this one for the world.

She was happy, happy with the way things were going for her, and generally content in Inferni to begin with. Though she'd balked at the idea of spending her life in a place as tiny as Thornloe, the woman with fire-colored hair was prepared to spend it here, in this clan. What was the difference? The dark hybrid could not answer that question -- it was a feeling more than anything, a feeling that things here were best for her. The coyote leaned back against the tree's trunk, her hair falling to the side of her head, spilling over the side of the long-fallen tree. The stars would be out soon, and she would watch them appear one by one, perhaps whispering a quiet little wish on the first that she saw. The hardest question was what she would wish for.

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No worries! XD Others can still totes jump in.

For her familiarity with Inferni's territory, the rusty coyote did not yet know many members of the clan. She was isolated on her lonely homestead way out in the Great Village -- few traveled out that way, and Myrika did not blame them. For her part, she did frequent the mansion and occasionally visited the caves -- the two areas were the preferred home of her clan-mates, and she did not wish to appear entirely anti-social before them. She picked her head up with the sound of an approach, and she saw a multi-hued coyote, quite young, approaching. She faintly recognized the Infernian from the meeting.

The small young canine was a stranger despite her efforts to branch out and encounter more of her clan. Myrika at first estimated the orangey girl's age to be similar to Symera's, the petite coyote MYrika was rather fond of. At a second glance, however, the rusty coyote saw this was not close to right. By size alone, this stranger should have been her junior by several years, but Myrika thought, upon closely inspecting the newcomer's face, that the small girl was her senior or age-mate. Myri had never felt quite so large and awkward as she did with this realization.

The tawny woman's ears pressed half-mast into her tangle of coppery hair, and she produced an uncertain smile for the girl. Myrika would keep all her limbs close by -- she feared an unexpected blow might send the little woman flying and kill her -- not the sort of thing that would impress her fellow clan-members. Hello, she said, giving a slight nod and a smile. Myrika Tears -- I don't believe we've properly met, she added, introducing herself and sitting up straight on the log. They might have attended the meeting together, but there had been so many faces, Myri could not properly say where this stranger had stood, much less her name or rank.

Myrika is by Nat!

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The tawny hybrid was rather used to strange reactions to her own height. Her childhood in Thornloe had been relatively easy-going, but in Myrika's mind, it had been a ceaseless wheel of taunts from the other children. Coyote as she was, her size spoke to her wolfish hints, and her oversized ears and small muzzle hadn't made life any easier. She had been a target for her age-mates mockery, and so Myrika had chosen to spend most of her time around adults. Thornloe was but a memory now, and a fusty one at that. Perhaps their agriculture was more advanced than Inferni, but this clan had a hierarchical system and a philosopher for a leader.

The small coyote made herself comfortable beside Myri, who carefully turned to face her companion, the same uncertain smile fixed upon her muzzle. It was much the same smile she gave any newcomer, though this stranger's size made Myrika feel especially cautious. The multi-colored woman spoke, and Myrika's smile brightened. She shook her head, the tip of her tail flickering a few times with amusement.

No, we are cousins, then, if you are a Lykoi, the hybrid said, crossing her arms. It was not a gesture of closure, but Myri did not wish to swing them about and knock her companion from the log. The tawny hybrid was not especially clumsy, but she did have a healthy fear of causing severe harm to another of Inferni. Philosopher or not, Zeke was bound to punish such transgressions, regardless of its status as purposeful or accidental.

There are quite a lot of us, it seems, she offered, rolling a shoulder in a slow shrug. Some were glad to meet her, and she was likewise pleased. Others seemed dismayed or even disgusted with the spread of their blood. Myri herself was simply alright with it all. She did not trust those she shared blood with any more than any other stranger, but she did not hate that she had such a large family as some might, either. The rusty woman pondered how Zana felt about these subjects, though Myri declined to inquire. Most made their feelings immediately apparent, in any case.

Myrika is by Nat!

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Myrika realized, with a suddenness that almost became visually apparent, that this woman might have encountered some of the same harshness Myri had in childhood. Zana seemed especially small; Myrika had been large and very coyote of feature in her youth. Zana seemed to carry most features of a coyote, but Myrika thought she could see the wolf in her. Perhaps she only appeared quite so coyote thanks to her petite size. The russet Consul had grown sharper of the eye where it came to identifying hybrid blood. She did not think she'd ever equal her grandmother for this ability, but was a pleasant surprise boon to becoming a member of Inferni.

For all her yearning for companionship, the red-haired woman did not think it would be wise to start inquiring on potentially painful memories so shortly after their very first meeting. She wouldn't have appreciated such inquiries, after all -- who was to say Zana even realized Myrika might have received teasing and harsh treatment? It had taken Myri a moment to realize it, even, and she was perhaps even projecting a little of her own experience onto her companion. Perhaps Zana had been lucky enough to grow up where the children were kinder than those in Thornloe.

She nodded with false and exaggerated misery at Zana's statement, sighing heavily for added effect. When the charade was finished, however, she cocked a half-smile to show her play, though the expression of jest fell quickly away as the tawny coyote mentioned her lack of paternal knowledge. Ah, I'm sorry. I know what that's like, kind of. I'm a Lykoi through my mother, Rachias, but I didn't know her longer than a month. Can't really remember her, the hybrid explained, eager to commiserate.

I don't know my father Kharma's family, though, the coyote added, frowning at the thought. Kharma had never spoken of his own family -- he'd only spoken poorly of the Lykois and all of Inferni. She would have to remember to ask him about this whenever the wheel rolled her toward him again, as she now found it peculiar. He had spoken poorly of Rachias's family to no end, but one might have expected Kharma to gasconade regarding his own good experiences, if his family had been so much better.

Myri was discovering, slowly, that these stories were of a different Inferni. The clan seemed far calmer than it had once been, and Myri was glad for it. As an aspiring historian, she was aware of the bloodied and dark history of the coyotes, but today's Inferni seemed an entirely different beast, eager to keep to itself. Were you just curious to know your father's family? Is that why you came to Inferni? Myri added, pondering whether Zana's reason for choosing the clan was at all similar to her own. She had come to realize it was this which had driven her here, and this which kept her from moving on and finding some other place. She wanted to know what she could about the Lykois and Inferni, and now that she had come to know them, she found she rather liked most of them.

Myrika is by Nat!

Myrika is by me!

Before her smaller companion could form a reply, Myrika became aware of a new noise. Her large ears twisted toward its sound, followed by her muzzle and the rest of her head. Turquoise eyes scanned the treeline for the source of the sound, and the tawny woman listened carefully. Odd snuffling sounds, something like digging, came from a short distance away, and Myri founded, turning her head back toward Zana. I'm going to see what that is, she said, standing abruptly. Excuse me, she added, ears and nose twisting toward the ground in apology for her lack of manners. She stood awkwardly another moment before she broke from the spot, feeling rather silly but too curious and now too far into the action to turn back. Zana might end up even following, if she, too, was interested enough.

The tall woman picked her way carefully through the trees, sighting an Optime rivaling herself in size. He was certainly more well-built than Myrika, but she might have bested his height by an inch or two -- or perhaps they were the same size. Instinctively, Myrika hunkered imperceptibly, casting a smile toward the brilliantly-adorned male. What seemed to be hundreds or even thousands of little bones and other minor accoutrements decorated him, and the teal-eyed woman peered toward him in curiosity.

Keeping our borders safe and secure? she inquired. Such a question might be interpreted as sarcastic, but there was not a hint of anything but friendliness upon Myrika's face. Looking at the man, she did not think they were cousins, but it was difficult to tell, and perhaps she was distracted by his accessories. The tawny woman's dark-splotched tail wagged as if to accentuate her friendliness, and Myrika spoke again. I don't think we've met -- I'm Myrika Tears, and back there is my cousin Zana -- you can join us, if you want, the russet-highlighted woman offered, motioning with one hand back in the direction from whence she'd come.