Myrika grimaced as she looked at the tiny shack. She knew what she would find inside -- nothing. She knew what was behind the little shack, buried in a shallow grave. Thamur. She had placed rocks over his body, and they were still there, as far as she could see. The rusty woman sat atop her horse, however, and had no interest in traversing any closer to the shack that had served as her home for those long winter months. She turned her horse away from the ramshackle building, and guided Eira further north.
The russet-shaded coyote had not traveled this way since coming to Inferni. Now, however, she was struck with a sense of intimate familiarity. She had forgotten just how well she knew this land. After all, she had spent so many months here. The rusty coyote goaded her horse a bit faster, eager to get away from the shack where she'd spent so much time. Although Myrika had not had a direction when she'd set out from Inferni, the tawny coyote now knew where she was headed -- the pine forests to the north.
She remembered this area well from the winter she'd spent here. This particular stretch of woods was eerily quiet; despite its serenity and silence, Myri knew there was plenty of prey here. It was not hunting she was interested in, however. Her former duties had been scouting after Inferni -- even though she was now the pack's Historian, the tawny coyote could not help but indulge her wanderer's tendencies. She liked riding Eira, and perhaps Eira guided them this way because they'd trekked here before. Myrika thought so.
The roan mare splashed through a shallow stream, and Myrika felt cold droplets of water splash along her legs. She peered to the ground, and saw the stream was not yet frozen. Though winter surely bore down upon them, it was not yet cold enough for permanent ice to form on such fast-moving streams as these. Perhaps she might find a thin film of ice on a particularly still pond, but that was all. Still, sooner or later, they would see snow.
The dark male had woken early that morning, warm and cozy, his frame wrapped around the ivory form of his mate. He had lifted his head, olive eyes scanning the immense room of den; a few others were here, still sleeping. He had left then, making sure not to wake Titania, and had stolen away to patrol; he wanted to have all knowledge of the land this day, for he sensed something was amiss. He had scouted then, the areas he knew best first, and after several hours found himself exiting the forest and his territory.
He was hungry, and had been hot on the trail of a deer or two, until their scent had faded away. Frustrated and now farther away from the den then he had intended, Zalen sighed in frustration. About to turn back, he heard a faint sound in the distance, of hooves. This took his attention, for a small pony might make a good meal, and he could bring the others back to the carcass later on. Slipping back into the brush Zalen became as a shadow and began to stalk. The smell of horse became stronger the closer he came to its source, and soon the trickling of a small stream came to his ears. Finally, through the scrub he saw his prey, but his hopes for a meal were immediately dashed away.
Atop of the horse sat a Luperci female, a coyote no less. Zalen immediately went into defense mode, crouching low, hackles raised. What was she doing here? A growl rose in his throat but he quelled it; perhaps she would be on her way soon. But after several moments of watching her this did not seem the case, and so he decided to be proactive and see what she was doing here.
Slowly he crept out of the brush, bringing himself to his full height, his hackles raised to give his Lupus body more substance; he approached her slowly, his side turned slightly to her. His was not a stance of aggression, but he was being extremely cautious, Coyote, you are close to my lands, is there a reason you linger here? He said it calmly, with no hint of malice, though he harbored it deep in his heart. He would have to test and see if this was a blood thirsty beast or maybe just a lone straggler; he hoped for the latter.
(1052)
The blanked out stuff is spoilerific if you haven't yet read The Stand by Stephen King, so I blacked it out. <_<; Not very important, skeep skeep. Also skip to the third to last paragraph; everything before it is tl;dr SoSu dribble. c;
Myrika is by Kiri!
Myrika had been riding practically since she had acquired the ability to form hands. Eira was far from the first horse Myrika had ever interacted with, but the blue roan was Myrika's own horse, and her very first one. If the tawny hybrid was lucky, she would not need another horse in her lifetime. As far as she knew, Luperci and equines had comparable lifespans -- though the horse might yet outlive her. Myrika's lips quirked in a faint smile at that thought, and she reached to scratch absently at the horse's shoulder.
Eira did not seem to feel the cold, and the shoulder beneath Myri's hand was thick with winter's fur. The coyote supposed desert-bred horses would need blanketing and extra protection in this weather, and she wouldn't leave even a northerly horse unprotected through the night's cold, but Eira did not require a constant added layer even in winter's coldest depths. The horse was rather unlike her owner in this manner. Myrika had balled herself in a cut and sewn pelt. Her legs, arms, and head were uncovered, but her torso was quite warm, thankfully.
Her level of comfort with this horse was magnitudes greater than it had been when she'd been thrown in the storm. Myri now believed she could keep Eira -- and any horse that did not have pure brimstone running through its veins -- under control in the face of such stresses. Perhaps she overestimated her skill, as the young tended to, but one needed only look at her riding and the relationship she crafted with her animal. Though low speech was not among the coyote's talents, she may as well have spoken commands to the blue roan, such was her skill with rein and slight pressures of the leg. Most movements were automatic; Eira seemed to infrequently require direction, but Myrika was unaware of the number of slight motions and squeezes she was making without even realizing she was doing such. Myrika might have been a centaur in a past life, if only such things existed in reality.
It seemed the humans were fond of mixing reality and fantasy, however. While Myrika realized some things were fictional -- centaurs, for example -- other works of fiction were taken as historical fact by the rusty-shaded woman. Her favorite tattered book, for example, was an entirely fictional plague, in actuality some entirely alternate universe's plague. It had nothing to do with Luperci and had never even happened, at least not on this plane of existence, yet Myrika had taken The Stand as an account of reality.
She often thought of the book, particularly Stu's exit from the contagion facility. Myrika had not enjoyed any of the scenes set within the facility, and in fact, the story had set a deep fear of such authority in her. She could not imagine being forcibly contained by Ezekiel, shut into a room in the mansion to die of illness. More moving than those scenes, however, had been the exit from the facility. Myri's particularly vivid imagination recreated the long walk down the corridors, past the dead and dying, and she had needed to set the book down in the middle of the scene. Even now, she rarely re-read these passages, as she was wont to do with much of the rest of the novel.
Her daydreams came to a rather strange end -- rather than an abrupt snap, as was generally the case when one was startled from thought, Myrika became slowly more aware of her surroundings. The forest seemed to come back into sharp focus, and in a few moments, she was on high alert. The only missing piece of this puzzle was why -- quiet alarm bells had begun at the back of her head upon passing north of the foothills, but Myri had dismissed them, or had she even been aware of them in the first place?
Biting her lip, the coyote slowly pulled the horse to a stop, which Eira obeyed readily enough. The horse was on edge, too -- Myrika had yet to discover why, until a voice startled her nearly from the saddle. She did not yelp, but her cerulean-hued eyes were wide as she twisted in the saddle to look upon the dark-furred stranger as Eira rolled forward a few steps, turning of her own accord and giving a sharp snort of displeasure at being startled herself. Myrika held the reins with ease and kept the mare still, as well as retaining her own seat in the saddle. A strange red slash nearly covered his eye, and the russet-hued woman thought she saw hardness in his heart. He would not need to gasconade of his prowess, either: though his size was not so impressive to her, big as she was, he held himself with seemingly unfaltering confidence.
No, she answered quickly, patting Eira on the shoulders in an effort to calm the horse. I... didn't know anyone lived up this way, honestly, she said, her explanation continuing and quickly growing rambling, thanks to her nervousness. I used to live up here, in a shack a ways south, and back then, there weren't many Luperci at all in the area. This was true -- most were passer-by, heading to or from the packlands to the south. All had been avoided by Myri. In the rare instance someone rattled on her door, the hybrid hadn't answered -- most times, she'd been prudent enough to leave home before they even showed up. Thamur had been the only one to surprise her.
In her surprise and anxiety, the rust-hued woman had not though to apologize or offer to leave, though she had already agreed to the latter in her own mind. Perhaps her failure to share this decision would cause her ill luck here with the stranger, but Myrika was willing to attempt amends, in any case; she waited in nervousness, ears half-mast and tail pressed against her leg and Eira's side. The russet coyote was not sure whether she should introduce herself or just go -- she thought either might be rude without more from the dark stranger, and so she decided her best course was to await his response.
I tend to only read his short stories, so you don't need to black it XD
The ebony male stepped back a few paces when his arrival startled the coyote femme’s steed. He had not interacted with any equines since his coming to Nova Scotia, but knew that there were wild herds as well as Luperci kept horses. He snorted at the thought; how stupid it was to ride on a horse when a wolf had just as much stamina and speed. Zalen’s eyes traveled up to the coyote’s face then, gauging her reaction; she seemed just as surprised as her horse. Her body language was not threatening, and even when approached in such a manner as he had she did not react violently. Curious. It seemed that perhaps not all coyotes were vicious, mindless creatures, but Zalen had already learned this long ago, when he had met Gemma in Anathema and she had helped to heal his wounds.
This female however did not have the friendly scent of Anathema but reeked of Inferni; Zalen could not help but to wrinkle his nose. He had only had one encounter with the lone coyote pack, and it had been what he had expected; snarling jaws and mindless violence. He had steered clear ever since, and would make sure to tell his pack, once they assembled, to do the same. But this woman seemed no threat, so he relaxed and sat down upon black haunches at the edge of the trees. None did live here until I claimed it several days ago. He watched her carefully, but seeing nothing to arouse anxiety he continued, A shack to the south you say? Odd that a coyote would stray so far from Inferni. He hissed the word out, making it very clear he held no love for that clan.
Standing again then he paced parallel to the tree line, keeping his eyes trained on her at all times, I am Zalen Damaichu, and you can let your coyote friends know that they are not welcome here, and should remain clear of this place. Once again, this was said with no malice, but very matter-of-factly. Soon the Infernians would find out about New Dawn, but he didn’t want them to come snooping around. New Dawn was in its infancy, and needed to avoid unwanted guests at all cost, at least until its numbers were strong.
He stopped again, now cocking his head slightly to the side to look at her, How interesting though that you seem to have some sense to you, something that does not seem to be true for the majority of your kind. But perhaps your having turned to the human ways have made you soft. It was true, that the only coyote he had encountered in Nova Scotia that had been vicious to him was one that was natural, not in the two legged form, and carrying no humanization upon her, but the two that had been civil were very much human like. It seemed that even coyotes could succumb to the weakness of the human ways.
(446)
.___.; I suck. Could not post with Myri for like a week and a half wtf. Kind of forcing it even now because I feel baddd. SORRY IF SUCK. Also lol last post I said Myri when I meant Eira so Myrika patted herself on the shoulder wtf.
Myrika is by me!
She was glad she had not introduced herself upon his next words, for they confused her greatly. Her tawny brow knotted with this confusion, one ear falling half-mast as she considered his words. Had she trespassed, then? She had scented no border, but she was on horse, and if he had only just claimed these lands, his scent would not be strong. She wondered who stood behind him in his pack, and her gaze meandered the distant forest, looking for the hunkering shadows of canines. She saw none, but this did not mean they were not there.
His next words confused her even further and she did not miss the way he'd spat the word Inferni, but before she could inquire as to his meaning or interject, the man again spoke and introduced himself. It did become clearer to Myrika that she was unwelcome here, but she did not truly understand why, never having encountered true species bias previously. Her grandmother and many in Inferni had spoken of wolves who hated coyotes for no reason other than that they were coyotes, and Myrika had never believed them. Did such a thing exist, and had she been unlucky enough to stumble across it in this raven-hued man's apparent claim?
Eira again shifted beneath Myrika, and this time the coyote let the horse go; the roan turned around in a wide circle, moving away from the pacing wolf while tossing her head. A trembling had begun in the animals shoulders, and Myrika held her reins tightly, again patting the horse on her neck. She murmured "easy" a few times over, though her gaze remained fixed in Zalen's general direction. She avoided direct eye contact, but did not allow the shadow-furred wolf to escape her view. I don't know what coyotes ever did to you, but I mean you no harm, she said, again pulling the horse to a stop. She knew she ought to go, but curiosity was a powerful thing, and it held her in place for the moment.
I... was afraid of Inferni, because of its history. I learned history isn't everything -- maybe you'd like to, too, sometime? she asked, now timid. Go, go, go, Eira's trembles seemed to say, but the coyote held the horse where she was for the moment, wishing to leave a kindly impression of her pack here, if such a thing was possible. Perhaps the old stories were true, and his dislike ran deep enough to keep him from ever learning the truth about coyotes -- if so, Myrika was of no use here, and she should oblige her horse's wishes.
Zalen stopped his pacing once he noticed the discomfort of the horse, and based upon his previous goal it was a discomfort that was well placed. The coyote female seemed quite confused at what he had said, but curious obviously, since she did not run off even after his clear statement on not wanting her around. Curious, she was absolutely no threat, and therefore his opinion of her was brightened. It was somewhat of a surprise though, that a coyote that lived within Inferni would behave this way and it peeked his curiosity on the pack further. Perhaps, in the future, he should send a spy, or he himself should to Inferni, just to see what kind of place it truly was. He had no desire to come into a conflict with them, however it would be good to know what kind of force they were if New Dawn was ever to reckon with them.
She then said something that caused Zalen to freeze. Of course she would not know of why he despised her race so, but what would be the point in telling her? Would she even car that he had run in the snow while the sounds of his mother’s body being torn apart faded behind him? Would she even think to bat an eye at the misery coyotes had caused him? He had been so broken when he had arrived at Nova Scotia, suffering from the trauma of the death of his mother and adopted brothers. It was only until recently, with Soran’s mentorship and Titania’s love that Zalen had been able to leave his bloody past behind; but he would never forget, and it would take a miracle to let him forgive.
The still nameless coyote female then said something that caused Zalen great confusion; had she just invited him to Inferni? Now he was really curious and he cocked his head at her quizzically and then said much more softly then before, What is your name? I am Zalen Demaichu. I have never met a coyote like you. What also interested him was that she had alluded to also being disturbed by Inferni’s history, but had learned to overcome such fear by living among them. Perhaps this girl was part wolf, not a surprise, it seemed as if many of the canines in the area were hybrids. Perhaps she had been raised by a wolfish mother outside of Inferni, or perhaps adopted by others and not taught the vicious ways of other coyotes. Zalen could understand why she had returned though; the camaraderie one feels with one’s own species was comforting indeed. But still, she seemed innocent, sweet, with no hint of malice; yes, Zalen was quite curious about this one.
The stranger ceased his pacing, and Eira seemed to settle with it, though she kept one eye trained on the dark-hued man at all times, her nervousness refusing to completely abate. Myrika herself grew faintly more comfortable with the wolf's presence when he was not moving, although she herself was roughly where her horse was in terms of discomfort. Myrika's own increased to a near-panic as he froze, and she thought for one terrible and long moment she'd offended the green-eyed man. She was just readying herself to speak an apology and take her leave before she could cause more damage when the wolf asked her name, offering his own in turn. It was Myrika's turn to be surprised, and her ears lay flat against her skull, folding still more downward from their previous half-mast position.
Myrika Tears, she said, softly. Too softly -- he wouldn't hear her, wolf's ears or not. Ah, Myrika Tears, she repeated more loudly after clearing her throat. Have... have you met a lot of us? she asked, not knowing how else to reply. I mean, she said, shaking her head. Apparently, I'm not even a coyote all the way -- part wolf, part red wolf, part dog. I only knew about the wolf before I came to Inferni, she said, hands wringing the reins nervously. Having no coherent response and fewer coherent thoughts beside get out of here, you silly girl, Myrika was now reduced to babbling, spouting half of her familial history in one babbling burst of words to Zalen before she could help herself. Shifting in the saddle, the woman decided it was best to shut her muzzle before it got her in trouble. He didn't need to know all of this about her, and in all likelihood, it would irritate him. Stupid, she thought, chiding herself mentally.
He seemed to have really frightened this girl and though that had been his intent in the beginning it no longer was so. Now he felt guilty, as the young girl nervously answered him. Her name was Myrika Tears, and she had been the first coyote he had met that he had not felt anger towards. When he had met that white coyote on Inferni lands, it had been nothing but violence. And when the other ivory coyote girl named Gemma had helped him in Anathema, he had been cold to her. But this girl, something about her eased Zalen, and it was soon to be revealed.
Myrika confirmed his suspicion that she was indeed a wolf hybrid, but she also told him of her dog heritage. Interesting, Zalen had always been under the impression that Inferni only accepted coyotes, but he supposed that her visage lent in her being a member. For wasn’t that what truly mattered? As long as someone looked the part, they could get away with everything. But this girl, this Myrika, told him that she had been raised as a wolf when she was younger. How odd then that she would be accepted into Inferni, unless she kept this fact a closely guarded secret.
Then, turning away for a moment, Zalen tried to think of a way to tell her of the “others” of her kind that he had met. Though it was true that the ones he had run into here in Nova Scotia were not as terrible as the ones before, his previous encounters with coyotes where the source of his trepidation. Then with a sigh, he turned olive eyes to her, When I was but a pup, coyotes ripped my mother apart, for no reason other than that she was a wolf. He glared then, but not so much accusatorily at her but just for the fact that it made him angry,The ones I have met here did not change my opinion of them either, though you seem to be doing a good job at it. It was true, if only all coyotes could be like Myrika then maybe he would not hate them so.
With this in mind, Zalen then got an interesting idea. He knew that it would not be long before Inferni decided to test the waters with New Dawn, and when this was to happen Zalen would like to speak with someone like Myrika, You seem good hearted and honest. In the future, if your leader ever wishes to speak with me, let him do so through you as an envoy. He wondered if she would be alright with this, and if not then so be it. Zalen did not wish to interact with the coyotes more than he had to, but if it was to be so then through Myrika it would not be as difficult.
Kharma had never stressed one way or another what they were -- he had spoken only of them being hybrids, and relented to tell Myrika coyote and wolf only after some pestering on her part. Beyond that, her father had been queerly silent regarding his heritage and their own, and Myrika had always found this frustrating in her youth. Now, knowing what she did about her mother's family, she merely found it strange. She wished to speak with her father again, and wished to do so badly -- all the things she could tell him! Myrika had pondered, several times over, whether it would be possible to fly a bird between here and Thornloe. Donovan the kestrel had done so, but Myri was woefully understudied in avian pursuits, and she did not know the first thing about how to train a bird to complete such a journey.
Her face fell further into misery as he spoke, and her alarm was momentary drowned by empathy for the man. Oh, she said, her voice both morose and startled. This was accentuated by the drooping of her head and shoulders, and the way she looked upon the ground. In truth, Myrika felt guilty for being a coyote around this man. No doubt her countenance reminded him of these hard memories. I'm terribly sorry, the woman said meekly. I didn't mean to make you... make you, remember, she said, supposing this was as good a word as any. It was hard to remember those sorts of things. She almost spoke of Rachias, but then held her tongue -- there was the possibility, however faint it was, her mother was still alive. This man had no such luck in his life.
His next words surprised her further, and Myrika looked at him with surprise, for the first time without trace of her alarms. Well -- I -- thank you, she said, still astonished. Had he just said that? She thought so, and nodded gravely. I'll pass along any message you want to send to Inferni, whether it's to tell us to stay away or invite us for tea, she said, meekly attempting a jest, uncertain how the man would react to such. Myrika was not a particularly comedic canine, but in such tense situations as these, she was willing to try almost anything to abate her nervousness. Her mettle was not so great that she dealt with such potentially dangerous and awkward -- yes, very awkward, at least on her end -- situations with grace and ease.
I mean it, though. I'll tell Ezekiel what you said, and if there's anything you want to tell him -- please, tell me, and I'll be on my way, she said, eager to get going. He seemed friendlier now, but she was still jittery, and her toes felt like they were a million years away, tangling down in Eira's stirrups. A faint dizziness passed over her, but she did not sway or appear woozy. Instead, she kept speaking, still too nervous to keep herself from carrying on. And -- thanks, thanks again, she said, still astonished a man who had seemed so ready to attack her had offered a compliment. These interspecies relations confused Myrika to no end, and she was eager to return to her comfort zone.
Zalen had never believed he would confess what had happened to him to one of coyote kind, so it was strange that he didn’t feel uneasy having done so to this girl. Perhaps he had chosen well to ask of her to be an envoy, for he believed that despite her race he could trust her. It also helped that he seemed to intimidate her to some degree, ensuring that she would not cross him. But now the eventuality of meeting with Inferni weighed heavily on his mind; how would such an encounter play out? Though Myrika had given him some hope that there could be peace, it was difficult for him to believe that the leader of the infamous Inferni would be as forgiving as she.
His sad story seemed to touch her and she apologized for his pain, to which he shook his head, No matter. It is in the past now. Something he would not have been able to do up until recent events. The death of his mother had scarred him, made him silent, but now he could no longer afford to be so. Still, it was a sore spot in his heart, and he had yet to forgive the monsters that had taken her from him. He was not sure if he would ever be able to, and he would surely never forget.
Myrika agreed to his request and said that she would be sure to pass along to Ezekiel, whom Zalen assumed was Inferni’s leader, any message he could have. The black Alpha pondered this, but decided there was nothing that could be said at this point, I have no message to give him, for I’m sure you will let him know of our meeting here. What had been spoken between them would be enough for the leader to understand, and if he wished to further investigate New Dawn then Zalen was sure that Myrika would convince him that there was a certain way such meetings were to be made. Hopefully this Ezekiel would not be mad enough just to come barging over the borders.
Now, seeing that their meeting was drawing to an end, Zalen stood and took several slow steps away from the girl and her horse, back towards the forest, Yes, perhaps it is best that we part now. But thank you, Myrika, for conversing with me, even when I behaved in such a manner as I did. He gave her a short nod and a soft smile, one that hinted at possible camaraderie , before he slipped into the trees. He made sure to go far enough into the shadows be hidden, but he watched the girl, making sure that she did indeed leave his lands, and with haste.
