Word Count → 399 :: ooc text

It was time, Ataxia figured. She had prepared for this day by moving her few meager valuables away from her mother's den, and now all that was left do was to tell her. The more she waited, the more she worried. The arrogant girl was actually afraid that she might chicken out and never tell her the news - this, of course, was unacceptable to her. Coward was not the word she would use to describe herself, and yet the girl could think of no other reason she would move out of her mother's home without a word.

The hybrid was sitting in her mother's den, in front of the firepit. A basket full of seashells lied beside her. A few of them had been placed on her father's grave, while some had placed inside Tlanti's old residence. The remaining were to be given to her mother, which she hoped would distract her long enough to prevent her from becoming angry.

The girl fiddled with a shell in her hand. Eris's slave was curiously absent and had been so for a while now, and it felt strangely empty without her. Ataxia had never bothered to ask her mother why she had disappeared, as she thought it might upset the grieving woman more. She shouldn't care, it was just a slave after all, but now that she was alone and waiting for her mother to return she was suddenly very aware of how quiet it was.

She wondered if she should ease the news with something less obvious than a gift. Idle chatter? Ask about the weather? No, her mother wasn't stupid; that would make it more obvious. Ataxia's mind tried to find some topic they could discuss, and drifted to their differing views of religion. It meant she was unable to tell her mother about her concerns regarding Momoztli. What was it that he required of them? Sacrifice? More purification?

Sacrifice. That she could talk about, as long as she phrased it in the manner of 'more power for Salsola' and did not mention her god's name. Along those same lines, she could bring up her interest in scarification. The latter had prompted her to consider become the pack's Segna; perhaps it was time to mention that to her mother as well. She thought she might approve, although it was hard to predict her reactions while she was still grieving.

Word Count → 296 :: even though technically the thread where she got the shells is more than a week away from this one, you could say some of the mussels in the shells are still alive and can be eaten? Ata wouldn't know how to open them or realize that they could be used as food, she'd just pick them up because shiny. Most of them look like this: blue mussel shell

Ataxia's lips started to twitch into a nervous smile, but she stopped herself before it appeared. Her fear was more obvious that she wanted it to be. Of all people, her mother was the most likely to notice it, but it seemed like everyone could see through her attempts to hide herself. She wanted to be strong, emotionless and able to spin lies like a spider could spin web. She was not there, not yet.

"Just thinking about the future," she said, which was not entirely a lie. "I have some shells for you." She pushed the basket toward her mother. Inside was a collection of shells of different shapes and sizes - one or two were large spiraling things that wrapped around themselves, while the majority were oval and in various shades of blue. Some shells were opened, some were not. It hadn't occurred to the girl to try opening them; she just picked it up, cleaned it off and placed it in the basket in whichever way she found it.

There was a pause as the hybrid considered her next words. All sorts of possibilities swirled in her mind. "I was thinking another sacrifice might be appropriate..." she looked away briefly, "since so much has happened recently. It might help for the coming battles." Her tail twitched behind her. "I also thought I might become the Segna. I like the power scarification gives me, and sharing it with the Family seems... appropriate." In actuality, she wanted to cleanse Salsola of its wolf blood. She, of course, couldn't say that. "I think it's time I undergo the Cotona ritual."

All that information at once was probably too much, but Ataxia thought it would distract her when the next bit of news came. "Also, I'm moving out."

Word Count → 224 :: ooc text

It seemed like it was all going smoothly, at first. She smiled at her mother's praise; it seems she wasn't wrong to think a gift would distract her. However, it appeared shoving so much information towards her at once did not have the effect she intended.

Ataxia panicked when her mother's voice took a demanding tone. Her eyes became wide and her ears flattened, pressing against her head - afraid that she'd already figured it out. The girl hadn't realized that her mother was acting on fear, and hadn't even made the connection between her and Tlanti. "No, no, no. I'm not leaving. It's only... I know you didn't like her, but I don't see why that means I can't take her residence." Unconsciously, she moved away from her mother. "I'm not going to follow her to Eterne, of all places... I can't even pass for a coyote." She paused just a little too long. "Not even if I wanted to."

She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself and banish her racing thoughts. The young hybrid hunched over, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in hands. With difficultly, she was able to come up with a reasonable argument. "I wanted to go through the Cotona ritual. Why would I mark myself as one of Salsola and then leave, mother?"

Word Count → 225 :: ERIS HARASSMENT

Ataxia paid no attention to her mother's warnings of Eterne. Traveling to the desert empire wasn't her goal at all - it was simply to cure Salsola of its wolfish taint and to attain Momoztli's approval so that they might have better luck. The knowledge that Eris had traveled there did pique her curiosity, but something told her not to ask right now.

The girl peered up when her mother announced that she'd never leave. The young hybrid felt a sudden surge of rebelliousness rise in her. Not that she really wanted to leave, she was just... bothered that Eris sounded so certain of her fate. She gave a slight pout at the sight of her mother beckoning to her for a hug. "Maybe I'll mate with a coyote, mother. What will you do then?"

Ataxia broke out into a grin, and then jumped forward to hug her mother before she could react to the question. It was meant as a joke, but she was still curious as to how she would react. Nonetheless, she went on speaking as if she had suggested nothing out of the ordinary. "As for the ritual... today, and on my hand... or my wrist. That way I can cover it up with gloves." The only problem with that plan was that she lacked gloves, but such things could easily be acquired.

Word Count → 239 :: This still counts for one part of the Segna challenge, even if Eris does it, right? Also, hope that last paragraph doesn't sound stupid. >.>

Her mother's retort to be thankful that she couldn't have children yet made her grin, as if she planned to do that as soon as possible to spite her mother. In truth, Ataxia was still too much of a child to even think about having her own. There were a great many things she wanted to do first, one of which was becoming a high-ranking member of Salsola so her children would aspire to be great in the way her parents had inspired her to be the same. For all that she may have disagreed with her mother, she still owed her a lot. The girl wouldn't have been half as arrogant if she'd been born to a member of mere Family status.

"Yes." She looked at the marks on her mother's wrists and nodded, glad that she approved. "I know you've done this for others too, and there's no one else better to learn from." For a moment, the young hybrid forgot that her mother might have missed the mention of wanting to be the Kingdom's Segna, and assumed that she would know what she was talking about.

Ataxia padded over to the firepit, and sat in front of the logs. She propped her right arm on the log, exposing her wrist. She didn't think she was wrong in assuming her mother had no plans to do the ritual in some place other than her home.

Word Count → 184 :: Out of Character text

It hadn't occurred to her that her mother would need to get the dagger from storage first and she felt somewhat stupid when the thought crossed her mind. Fortunately, it seems her mother was keeping it close now, so she needn't have worried. Still, Ataxia hoped she was not so forgetful when it was her turn to perform the Cotona ritual on someone else. Otherwise, she would look like a fool. Her ears gave a nervous twitch at this thought.

The young hybrid pushed those thoughts from her mind, and turned her attention to the smiling Eris. It was rare to see her express happiness after her father's death. "Uh..." She hesitated on her question. She wasn't sure if her mother meant where the concept of scarification had come from, or the origin of the Hand itself. "Eterne?" She guessed, if it was the first. She had not heard where the Hand had come from, but she suspected her mother had to have either designed it herself or named it. That it was called the Hand of Eris made her think as much.

Word Count → 340 :: well now, this is interesting :o

She gasped when the first mark had been made, though it was from surprise and not pain. Scarification was something she was used to, and she gained some tolerance to the pain she inflicted on herself. Her ears gave a twitch when her mother started to speak and reveal a fact she'd already known - one she'd heard from Tlanti. The smile her mother gave revealed that this wasn't idle chatter - she was trying to prove a point, perhaps lecture her on what she'd done that was wrong. Ataxia was beginning to regret being so honest about her interest in coyotes.

She did not reply to the refutation of her beliefs, at least not at first. Ataxia knew she would have to speak carefully, as her mother could be cruel while she made her point - she was essentially held captive here, until the mark was finished. The young hybrid didn't think her mother would hurt her to the point of injury, but she could take the chance to be less gentle with the cuts than was normal. Although she was used to pain, she wasn't entirely sure how much she could take or what her limit was.

When she finally spoke, her voice was even. She phrased her sentence in a way that she thought would not reveal her beliefs. "If you do not believe your marking has any power, why do you keep it? Why bother any of the practices from Eterne?" It would take more than her mother's word to convince Ataxia that she would not one day be able to make herself coyote. Even if she figured out that she would never became a coyote despite her efforts, she would not abandon her faith. She had seen Momoztli in her visions, from the mushrooms her mother had introduced her to, and in her dreams thereafter. Knowing that she could never be a coyote might spur her to reach higher for his approval. She was not one to give up easy when faced with a challenge.

Word Count → 274 ::

And yet it marks you as of Momoztli, she thought, but would not dare say such a thing out loud. Ataxia envied her mother's scar and wanted it for herself - and yet, she couldn't for it'd be obvious why she wanted such a thing. Perhaps if her mother were dead... No. Not even she was selfish enough to wish her mother dead, over something so little. She would wait until the day she was high enough in the rankings that her mother's displeasure wouldn't matter.

The young hybrid turned her gaze from her mother, to the bleeding wound. There was pain - a stinging sensation, but not enough to qualify with a reaction. She had an urge to lick the blood away, but that might actually help the healing process; if the scar healed, she'd have to do it again. Perhaps deeper next time. The thought of making a deeper scar might please for it would purify her blood, but then it would undo all the work her mother had done. Even though they disagreed, she still valued what connections she had to her mother and the rest of her family.

Her mind turned to her mother's words. Perhaps she could accept somethings about her faith were untrue. Maybe. However, her faith in Momoztli, the coyote god himself, was not one she was willing to reject without a fight. "How do you decide what is true and what is false?" And what makes you the arbiter of truth? she silently asked, but did not say out loud. Her expression was guarded as she did her best not to give her way her thoughts.