Myrika is by me!

Myrika stood on the D'Neville porch, leaning haphazardly against one of the tall supporting columns. The once-pale paint was chipped and cracked, streaked almost black with dirt and grime in some places, and yet it was still a solid enough building. Certainly, parts of it were in worse disrepair than others, and there was a distinctive scent of old within the mansion, but that was nothing an open window couldn't quickly fix. The schoolhouse was her home, but she spent enough time here, poring over the books within the library or otherwise sifting through their storages to keep them neat and well-ordered.

Kaena had always been plain with the idea that Myrika ought to continue the family's lineage, but it was only in recent months the old woman had become almost demanding on such an account -- Myrika rebuffed her each time, providing all sorts of reasons as to why not. They still needed to care for Halo and her children; Eira was close to foaling; she didn't want just anyone's children; she didn't have a mate. She'd even tried to tell the old woman she didn't even like men, but she'd stopped at the last moment, providing some other excuse. Just now, the mansion was providing respite from her grandmother's badgering, too.

The tawny coyote's eyes and attention were on the skies, watching the afternoon's thunderstorm rolling in from the west. It was a devilishly dark sort of gale, though Myrika knew from the looks of it, whatever rains came would be short-lived. This kind of storm burned itself out quickly; the world would have only the briefest respite from the afternoon's humidity and heat. Lightning lit up the horizon, a brilliant streak across the green-gray skies, and a few moments later the rolling growl of thunder followed, low and long in the western sky.

Myrika is by Aly!

The redhead smiled as he mentioned his guitar; she enjoyed music, although she suspected she lacked any sort of talent for it. Her howling voice was a crackling mix of coyote and wolf, sometimes distinctively one and sometimes the other, but always muddled. Her singing voice was no better; she couldn't hold a tune. The mysteries of music were something she felt best to leave to others.

Anyone who stayed is strong. I'm sure it must have been difficult for some to stay, knowing children and mates and family are in danger, she said. For her part, she had wanted to run away -- she'd wanted to run away very badly, in fact, but duty had held her in place. Now that it was over, she was glad she'd stayed. It was no easy thing, fighting to defend her home, but the alternative was -- what? Wandering forever without a place? Inferni and its history was worth a little spilled blood, she thought.

Ah, she said, not wishing to pry too deeply into his personal matters. Still, a concerned look was given, allowing her cousin to speak further on such matters as his woman if he so desired. We can go inside, if you want, she suggested. If... it's okay with you, I'd like to try that, she said, almost shyly. But only inside, and only if you won't tell anyone. She felt comfortable asking Jacinto: it wasn't like he was Ezekiel. She could have plucked her own from the garden, but she did not want to try it around Kaena for the first time, or risk being found by Amnesty and Oblivion. Neither did she wish to experiment completely alone, either.