SO MUCH DISDAIN. Referenced X'ies being in the area (scent);
hopefully that's okay, since I didn't know how soon they'd reply. ^^

No matter what had personally happened to her, near-death experiences and frustrating arguments aside, Vesper knew she had to keep going for the sake of Inferni. Luckily, it was relatively easy to turn on the autopilot switch and send her drifting down the track around the edge of the territory. Scouting afforded her little time to dwell on her thoughts and emotions, as her brain was constantly assaulted with and needed to sort through the information around her. She teased air into her lungs, her nose shuffling through the scents old and new, and her single remaining ear turned liberally to catch any suspicious sounds. Low to the ground in her small, comfortable lupus form, not much missed her.

There was relatively little excitement as she headed west from her cave, skirting the rocky beach with a heavy heart and loping toward the salty plains of the Waste. Her coat was not the typical coyote-bronze of the near-purebred members of her clan, but she kept moving through the dry golden marsh grass anyway, her darker timber dapples disappearing like shadows.

Even as the border stakes came into view, Vesper heard a call clear as day: the voice of a wolf hailing her. Her paranoia fought against her curiosity, and she froze, one paw still in the air, as her ear turned toward the source. A poacher had nearly killed her, and there was still the Boreas conflict to remember, so she had to go cautiously—but she couldn’t ignore the cry. She was too close, and she didn’t want to give this wolf any excuse to venture deeper into the territory—although she might get a kick out of tearing into him if he did. She wasn’t in the best of moods.

The coywolf trotted confidently into open sight at the territory boundary, choosing to stand next to one of the skull stakes, where her blue eyes appraised the wolf then widened slightly.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said slowly, trying to keep back any blatant disdain. She recognized the dark wolf as another member of the Sequoia group, and not one that she particularly liked since the alliance’s first meeting. Shaking her head slightly, she asked in a polite but not too cordial tone, “What is it you want?”

Whether or not she knew this male, though, she was careful. She could smell another wolf nearby, and it seemed like the former Ichikan had a new pack’s odor on him: earthy and wild, almost like New Dawn but without the overpowering wolf musk of a many-member’s-strong clan. There was the hint of a smell that sent her heart racing, but it wasn’t enough for her to question him. She only stood and waited.

oh my god thank lazarus 8D

Lately, Vesper had not thought much about the Sequoia alliance and its raid on the Thistle Kingdom. It had bothered her that they’d needed to associate with Salsola in order to defeat the Scintilla wolf threat, but none of those old foes she’d fought beside had embodied the terror and evil that was the slave-driving pack. In fact, many of the younger members seemed perfectly good, and one desperate fighter even reminded her a bit of herself. It was an uncomfortable thought, but she had known even at the meeting with the other Sequoia members that there were innocents in the pack. It was the leaders, and wolves like the black one that had killed the slave, that needed to take the fall.

However, her opinion of the group that had actually raided Salsola was low too. Many members had simply seemed thirsty for blood and hungry for chaos, not caring who they turned their violence on. They’d be just as happy attacking a peaceful southern pack as the northern slavers, she’d thought. At any rate, they weren’t the first group, like wise but troubled Tayui and noble but prejudiced Zalen.

Where this black wolf sat in her opinions was trickier, because while she’d hated his attitude, she knew things could change and probably had. After all, she wasn’t a non-luperci loner with an attitude problem of her own anymore.

Her blue eyes flickered lazily to the newcomer, an unimpressive grey wolf in his lupus form—that, at least, she could respect. When he did not speak, she returned her attention to the black, trying to read his reaction to her choice of position. She hated using the skulls for such a purpose, believing in eventual peace between wolves and coyotes, but it didn’t hurt to make her point clear; she would not tolerate any of her clan getting attacked by the beastly members of the race.

If he was horrified, or pissed off, he hid it well. The words that came out of his mouth were unexpected, however, and her posture changed: sharp, well-carried, interested.

“My name is Vesper,” the one-eared coywolf said plainly, “and I am a member of our clan’s leadership.”

She watched his blue eyes, his mouth, for any reaction. Then she took a seat, still with better posture than before, and tucked her dark-tipped tail over a scarred hind paw. She knew that, whatever her feelings were, she couldn’t be rude to the founder of another pack if his message turned out to be goodwill. She didn’t want conflict with a neonatal pack, anyway, unless it came down to his attitude rekindling. As far as she knew, she had done him no offense—other than being half coyote and once non-luperci. If he had issues with that, he was a fool.

“Sangi’lak, huh? I think I like the name.” She tried to smile conversationally, but she’d never been able to properly smile around strangers; what resulted was a crooked quirk of her lips. “What do you wish to say…is there a proper title I can give you?” She realized she didn’t know—or couldn’t remember—his name, and she did want to at least try to be respectful if he wanted to be called Ambassador or Alpha or Grand Poobah of Sangi’lak or whatever else.

Vesper lifted her scarred brow upon hearing the note of disappointment in the dark wolf’s voice, and she supposed that matter was settled; she guessed he liked her just about as much as she liked him. If she wanted to, she could have taken it a bit more personally, but she had learned the game of respect since dealing with other pack wolves. He knew nothing about her leadership and abilities, and for him to make assumptions simply placed him below her. That was her mantra as she kept her expression blank, knowing that Inferni could hardly benefit from her goading this man on. Sure, her displays of respect bordered on sarcastic, as she simply couldn’t help herself, but she was trying just as hard as the blue-eyed wolf before her was to be at least a little diplomatic.

Finally, the wolf gained a name: Jaden, the Issum of Sangi’lak. She filed that away, but just as she was about to move on, he added the name of his co-leader—and that one very familiar and dear to her heart. The previously expressionless coywolf’s eyes widened, and she straightened slightly, her ear turning forward as if to better hear.

“X’yrin?” Vesper asked, a little breathlessly. “X’y leads a new pack?” She shook her head, attempting to control her excitement. “Is she well? Why didn’t she come herself? She knows I’m here.” It would probably help diplomacy, too, although she kept that last bit to herself; saying that things weren’t going great would make sure they didn’t go great. At any rate, he hadn’t really had her attention until now, and she found herself longing for news of her friend and Shepard.

Distractedly, she nodded at his offer. She’d have to discuss all of this with Myrika, and she’d be sure to leave nothing out, but they could settle on details later. She was about to say so when the grey wolf, previously silent throughout the conversation, began to speak a bit too smoothly. Her brow furrowed as she turned her gaze on him, and when he spoke of liking the decorations, she yapped sharp laughter.

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically. She flicked the coal tip of her tail, scooting it a bit closer to her scarred hind paw and considering him like she might a rabbit that had started barking. She smirked then, her tone almost playful although irony lingered within it. “Well then, observer, take all the notes you want, but I’m afraid the world would speak of Sangi’lak copying the horrible coyote clan if you try the same tactics at your borders.”

She resisted the urge to add more about the skulls, knowing that she would come across as a little she-yote with a worse bark than bite. It was good enough for her to know that a majority of the trespassing wolves had deserved their deaths, rather due to their stupidity or their cruelty. Unfortunately, even a few bone-decorated stakes didn’t discourage every murderer from encroaching on their borders, but they’d only be lending their skulls once she got hold of them.

Vesper heard the black wolf’s dry remark and grinned toothily at him, letting him interpret that as he pleased. When he went back onto their original topic, however, her relief was evident in a flick of her whiskers as she straightened her posture again. She was here for business, not to leer tauntingly at a couple of wolves and pretend she was a hardass.

“I understand,” the coywolf said politely when Jaden explained why X’yrin had not come—although she didn’t fully understand. She wanted her friend here, so she could celebrate the birth of a new pack under her leadership rather than look on it with suspicion and suppressed dread. She wasn’t sure how large Sangi’lak was, or how important it was that X’y stayed back home, but she knew she’d have to make a point to visit her Shepard sooner rather than later.

After he’d poised his question, Vesper frowned, and at last she was simply another leader considering an offer. “I will have to speak with my Aquila,” she said, standing to mark an end to the conversation. “It isn’t wholly up to me.” She paused and flicked her ear, fixing him with her blue gaze. “However, I hope that, even if that doesn’t work out, you will uphold your offer of peace. You might find this hard to believe, Jaden, but Inferni dislikes unnecessarily violence. That we can readily defend ourselves when violence comes to our doorstep shouldn’t be mistaken as a threat.” Her voice grew cool but she nodded to dismiss them from the borders, doubting that they would have much more to say. “I will find a way to come into contact with you for an answer.”