Myrika is by me!

Although Myrika's world had gotten suddenly busy, she still found time for her horses. Especially now that she had a young colt to look after, the redhead could not shirk her pre-existing duties for leadership. Still, she was struggling to keep up, and it was with a fair amount of reluctance and resistance that she'd finally allowed Kaena to start helping with the horses. Though Myri found it difficult to accept, she needed the help and the old woman was more than willing.

Perhaps it was that Myri had given in to Kaena, too -- on her side, bright and still shining red and painful, the beginnings of her chaos mark showed against her ribs. It was not yet colored, for the old woman had only burned away the fur. Forever henceforth, this part of her would be bald and naked, incapable of regrowth. It was not so large an area -- only four inches each way, and almost perfectly circular. Her chaos star would be even smaller, she knew.

Though most of her duties kept her well-within Inferni, today the redhead rode Cahal outside of the clan's borders. She was curious about their neighbors and knew too little about them -- a leader ought to know the surrounding packs, after all. She was heading south, drifting rather than seeking a specific destination, when her stallion stopped abruptly and snorted, apparently alarmed.

The redhead blinked and looked around, scratching her horse's shoulders. He was more confused than frightened, she realized, and a moment later, she saw why. There was a cat -- smaller than a cougar or other predatory feline -- in the grass nearby, having quite a good time scratching himself. The redhead laughed at her horse. Stop being silly -- he can't hunt you, you're too big.

Myrika is by Aly!

Though they were a meadow's distance away when Cahal had become alarmed, the cat, too, seemed to be on edge. As soon as he saw them, however, he settled into the grass and seemed entirely indifferent to their presence. The hybrid grinned to herself and was preparing to urge Cahal to give the feline a wide berth when it spoke, startling her. Though his nonchalance had reminded her of Morcant, the half-wild stable cat, his speech was utterly unlike anything Morcant had ever done.

Oh! Both ears were pricked upward, and her bright turquoise eyes peered toward him curiously. A talking cat, she said, realizing this might be a frequently uttered phrase to the feline, and therefore irritating, the moment the words were out of her mouth. She raised a hand and clasped it over her muzzle, both ears flicked downward in an expression of apology. I'm sorry, that was rude. You must get that a lot. Perhaps as often as Myrika had gotten taunts about her ears -- she knew something about hearing the same tired, insulting sentiment over and over.

Myrika is by me!

Still, she said, embarrassed for herself. It's not nice, even if it is typical. It was typical of the kids in Thornloe to mock her big ears and little muzzle, her oversized paws and gangly body -- but that didn't make it nice, not in the least. She smiled her apology and murmured a repetition. I'm sorry. Much like Morcant, the cat seemed intent on appearing utterly nonplussed by her appearance. There was otherworldly intelligence in this cat's eyes, however, where Morcant was simply feral. Though the two seemed to be the same species, they might have been different ones entirely for the world of difference between them.

His question also surprised her. Tilting her head to one side, the hybrid nodded slowly. How do you know the coyotes? she asked. The redhead figured her rank didn't hold much meaning to the feline, and so she declined to include it. Deciding rather suddenly their difference of height was rude, the hybrid jumped to the earth and let Cahal wander. The big stallion would not go far -- and indeed, he took only a few steps away and bent his head to graze on the growth in the meadow itself.

Myrika is by me!

Though able to speak, the cat was relatively taciturn. Perhaps speech had been particularly hard-won for him, and he did not wish to waste his words? Myrika was too polite to inquire when they'd only just met and already she'd made a fool of herself by saying something better left unsaid. He groomed himself rather nonchalantly, and for a moment Myri almost thought he was not going to provide an answer -- but he did, at last, and the one he supplied made both coyote ears prick right up with curiosity. She smiled, setting her hands on her hips in an almost playful manner.

That there is, she said, keeping the pride from her voice with some effort. Ten years worth, in my recollection. Of course, Myrika had not lived to see all ten years of this history -- she had experienced only just under a year of it. This month, the hot one, would be her year's anniversary -- and in a year, leader already? What had Ezekiel been thinking? What is it about our history that interests you so? She decided this question was much more polite than asking why their history interested him -- though she would have asked the same of a wolf professing such interest in the history of a clan they could never join.

Myrika is by Kiri!

The coyote nodded. There was no denying Inferni's past. She did not think it was so recent that the coyotes would have some blight on their history, however -- she would have thought most of the killing and death was done and over with. Looking at him quizzically, the coyote's ears were folded back, and she was deflated of all former pride. Most in Inferni wouldn't consider it murder to kill a cat -- if it had been indeed a cat Element had once befriended -- and Myrika herself probably wouldn't have, either, at least not before meeting Element and learning of his intelligence. Intelligent creatures could be murdered; unintelligent creatures, such as deer and even horses, could only be hunted or even just killed, if they weren't killed for food.

Inferni has more than a few dark stains, she said. I thought the darkest were in the deepest, oldest past, but apparently not. The woman took another few steps closer, but stopped at a respectful distance to sink down to the cat's level. If he clawed her face, she couldn't really blame him. What happened, if you don't mind me asking? Maybe there's something I could do. This would not have been possible just a month ago, but now it was -- an Aquila could enact punishments, though she could not imagine exiling a coyote for having killed a cat. Still -- there was surely something she could do, from fetching reparations for the feline to issuing a warning?

Myrika is by James!

The redhead thought deeply on the words the shadow-furred feline spoke, her head cocked. This was a truth she hadn't previously considered -- probably precisely because she'd never spoken with a creature of another species in such a manner as this. But it did make sense -- no doubt, the territories of a few bobcats or even domesticated felines crossed one another throughout Inferni; Myrika had seen felines everywhere in Halifax. And yet -- they paid her no mind whatsoever, though she trekked across their territories, and it was the same for the felines lurking within her clan's territory.

The bronze-furred hybrid listened with mounting interest and discomfort to the words and names spoken by the dark-hued cat. She was quiet for a few moments after this, and she regarded the feline with turquoise-colored eyes. Halo herself was attacked, Myrika said, finally. She sees nothing now, a ghost in her own home. She would not and could not say it was karmic justice her cousin should lose her sight for the life of another -- though she still was unaware of the species of the coal-colored feline's companion. The wheel kept spinning -- Halo had attacked and was attacked, and Myrika had attacked to save her. Would she, then, suffer the retribution that had followed the chain thus far? It made her uneasy to think it, but it was not a thought she could avoid.

If that brings you peace, I don't blame you. She's my cousin and my friend, but we're all different to each other, I think, and even without knowing the harm she'd done you, I couldn't expect you to see her as I do. That was something she could speak, at least, and easily -- though it made her no less likely to defend those most valued to her, Myrika was not the narrow-minded sort and had a developed sense of differing perspectives in the world, as perhaps evidenced by easy acceptance of the speaking cat and his wisdom, not yet considered by Myrika herself and perhaps not considered by any of her species at all.

Myrika is by Alaine!

The tawny-hued coyote listened to the strange voice of the cat. She had never thought to hear words shaped into a feline voice -- she'd heard Morcant screaming and crying into the night often enough, yowling perhaps in claim of his territory or in calling of other cats, but it had never made anything close to a word. Perhaps she might speak his language, if she could learn it -- but would he have anything to say? There was the gleam of intelligence in the pet cat's eyes, true enough, but it seemed a feral thing to Myrika, all the same. She was troubled by the notion, still -- it did not seem right to keep a creature capable of thinking on a level with Element as a pet. She glanced downward toward the grass and tried to keep the discontent from her face, though her ears perked at the feline's words.

The lack of harsh feeling surprised her; most coyotes she'd known might have been in a rage. She regarded the green-eyed cat with a very faint smile that grew quite a bit, and nodded. You're a better creature than most, coyotes included, she said, finally, concluding that must be true. With cats kept as pets by Luperci such as herself -- well-intended as she'd been -- she thought Element might have been right in hating her kind. Yet he professed friendship with the Luperci species. Perhaps she'd try to ask Morcant whether he wanted to stay with her or leave Inferni altogether -- she doubted she'd get an answer, but she might as well try.

Myrika is by me!

The hybrid listened with mounting interest as the feline contrasted coyotes from wolves and even went so far as to describe behavior of species she'd never even thought about -- foxes and badgers, for one. She wondered about bears and cougars, and even more exotic creatures like monkeys and cobra snakes, which she knew only from stories. Horses, too. Prey animals in general, I mean -- they're so very skittish, but even we Luperci, who used to eat them, are learning to work with them. There's a reason the humans called them useful, after all. She smiled, but again the troubling thought came.

Do you think -- well, she stopped. If you were a cat that couldn't speak like you do, a cat that couldn't hold a conversation, I mean. Would you resent a Luperci giving you a place to live? I mean, she lowered her eyes, folding her ears back. I don't keep him with me, and if he left I wouldn't bring him back. And I guess I never thought of him as a pet -- I don't have any of those. My horses are my friends, and my donkey -- well, I guess he's a friend, too, no matter what an ass he is. There was a weak grin at her lame joke, but the apprehensiveness had returned.

Morcant is -- like a partner, I guess. He keeps the rats and other little pests out of my stables. I leave him food and I'd protect him, if anyone tried to hurt him. She'd been trying to make friends, too -- no matter how slowly it was going. She suspected the cat would never be one to climb into her lap and begin purring, but perhaps she could at least get him to tolerate her presence by plying him with food.

Myrika is by Shmee!

Although part of Myrika thought she ought to have kept her mouth shut, a greater part was almost relieved at having asked the question -- paragraphical with exposition and long as a question as it was. She might have tried asking Morcant himself, but the cat could not speak as Element did, and at least he'd seemed willing enough to come with her following the last battle. But then, he'd been traumatized and maybe a little hurt, too. Myrika remembered damp wetness on his fur -- blood, most likely, but she'd thought it belonged to someone else. And didn't he have that little bit of a limp? It was difficult to tell, for the feline's movements were still graceful as flowing water to Myrika, who felt all the more gargantuan and cumbersome in her body watching him.

But her fretting was for nothing -- Element summed it up succinctly, and in so brief a way it made the hybrid stare openly for a moment. A small smile blossomed on one corner of her mouth, and it eventually bloomed into an all-out grin. She shook her head and laughed, though it was a low, relieved sort of laugh. I never thought of it like that, but that's the truth, isn't it? If he didn't like it, he'd go. The tawny hybrid felt quite a lot more relieved over her small conundrum, and her tail wagged a few times to show the gratitude. Thanks. I guess everything's the same, at the core, huh? Luperci are like that, too. She thought of Ezekiel, and the smile faded away.