Hybrid did not hesitate to answer Gabriel's call. He heard it, ringing true and clear through the lands of Inferni. He quickly made his way to where Gabriel was waiting, wondering if the leader would be joined by Kaena as well. Since their wolf hunt, Hybrid had begun to question his initial beliefs about weakness inherent in females. Perhaps this weakness was the rule, and figures such as Kaena and Rielle -- whom he had not seen in some time, years even -- were the exception. Perhaps although most females were weak, especially those of the wolven sort, there were some who could be trained to be strong. Although this in part could be seen as proof of his initial assumptions, it also opened up many new possibilities. He wondered if Halo could ever be trained to match her male counterparts in strength and blood lust. Perhaps Hybrid had been too quick to judge her.



Hybrid moved through the territory with ease, having explored a great deal of it in his time here. During his two months in the summer of inexistence (Hybrid was not sure what to call it), he had wandered around the clanlands a great deal. Now, even though much of it was covered in snow, Hybrid recognized the familiar signs as he made his way south.



He arrived to find Gabriel waiting with Samael, Halo, and another coyote waiting by his side. Soon enough, more clan members appeared. Gabriel spoke, to which Hybrid listened attentively. He felt himself smirking in a characteristic fashion as Gabriel continued, wondering if Halo would be able to prove herself. A war! he thought, growing more and more excited at the prospect. Perhaps the fabled gods of war truly existed, and names such as Ares, Enyalius, and Bast, were not mere legends. For, Hybrid could only thank such gods -- should they exist -- for the good fortune they had. Inferni could now destroy Dahlia de Mai once and for all. They would be guided by their vengeance on behalf of Kaena for whatever the Dahlians had done to her. Hybrid had not heard of this yet, and was wondering why Gabriel had not told him yet, but knew it would be for the best. Gabriel always acted in the best interests of the clan, and now, Hybrid's faith in the Aquila had solidified.



Hybrid said nothing in reply to the announcement, but glanced up, hoping to meet Gabriel's eyes. He paused, then realized there was something he could say. Even if Hybrid did not have a way with words some did, he had ideas and memories of bloodshed.



"Let us destroy him," Hybrid crowed, growing more excited at the prospect.

A relatively clear morning, though the weather was as cuttingly cold as it had been as of late. Coyotes were not as well-prepared for such things as wolves were—the bandanna-wearing Hastati could feel the wind completely bypass whatever protection his thin fur gave him, chilling him to the bone. The sun made it a little more bearable, but he usually kept close to his den during days like this. He had rekindled the fire he kept in a pit next to his car-den in the landfill and kept close to it. He had free time and, as he usually did while in that situation, he pondered over the defunct pistol he had found in Halifax. It was an older model, even by human standards—a 1911 Custom that had been popular from the year that was its namesake all the way up to the Cold War, and sometimes beyond. The years definitely showed—Snake had been working tirelessly in free hours to get it free of rust. Now it shined, the rust cleaned from each individual piece. He had learned quickly how to break it apart and put it together. Now he intended to try to figure out what was the problem in the mechanism which prevented it from firing. Honestly, he didn’t want to fix it for any other reason that he wanted it to work. Snake was not someone who killed aimlessly—he actually preferred to avoid violence if possible. He just thought it’d be interesting to have a firearm at his side.


That might have to wait, though. He glanced up from where he was sitting by his fire when the raucous call went up; he knew it was Gabriel’s, though the wild tone was very different from the calm Aquila that he had met months ago. Snake stood, tossing handfuls of sand and grit onto the fire to make it splutter and mostly die. Then he put the pistol in his back pocket and began to lope towards where the call had issued from—the heart of Inferni’s territory.


He arrived after many: the usual suspects, de le Poers and Lykois, as well as his friend Hezekiah. There were a few that he did not recognize, such as another golden-hued coyote that was named Cotl (though Snake would learn this later). The olive-eyed yearling arrived silently, lingering towards the back of the assembled coyotes—not out of shyness, but just that he never liked to draw attention to himself. Crossing his strong arms in front of his chest, he listened with a stony expression as Gabriel told of what was happening. A cold shiver went down Snake’s spine.


War.


Patriot’s voice echoed in his ears, as if the werewolf were behind him now—“You’re practically a weapon, kid. And no matter what, I promise you: you will always end up on a battlefield eventually.” He was angry that his past mentor was correct, though it did not show an inch on his facial features. Snake had to figure this out now. He had sworn to himself that the minute Inferni no longer was beneficial to him, he would leave. This would appear to be the time, right? He might die within a conflict with the wolves to the west. But… as he glanced at the familiar and alien faces around him, he realized that he was in too deep for that. He trusted his superiors and he even found himself wanting to help, wanting to protect what had become his home. With that, he realized that he would stay and he would fight. He was a weapon, after all; what was the point of trying to escape it?


Haku Soul. Snake knew him, from words and even personal experience. He glanced to Hezekiah, wondering if his blue-eyed friend knew that that very man had chased them from Dahlia before. Anselm had given Snake a description that had given him that conclusion. Well, that wolf was no friend of Snake’s, so he was glad to make him into an enemy. There was a rumbling when Gabriel finished his powerful words, describing how things were to be done. The Hastati knew that he would have to track down Daisuke and warn him that this time, he could not come to Inferni. No doubt someone would catch and kill him. It was strange that this was one of his first thoughts, but those of war were general to Snake. He didn’t need to consider them as much.


He did not respond like everyone else. Rather, he seemed somewhat retreated into himself—his hard olive eyes was fixated on the ground a few feet away from him, his arms crossed and a serious expression on his youthful face. Someone might surmise that he was looking shifty, but in truth he was just processing things. If asked, he would tell the truth—he would be an Inferni soldier in this war.

There were more. Hybrid could not help but revel in the strength of Inferni as he glanced around him, evaluating the newcomers. He saw new faces and new scents, new faces and old scents, and old faces and old scents. Some of those that appeared did not surprise Hybrid — Anselm and Kaena had arrived, along with Razekiel. One unknown face suggested setting traps, something Hybrid had little experience with. It made sense to Hybrid, though, he knew he would be unable to take part in any of it. He knew nothing about the way those mechanical creatures worked, as his method of attack was simple and straightforward. Never had he relied on some sort of extra weapon or hand to kill someone.



There were a few meagre protests being raised by coyotes he had never seen before, and would hopefully, never have to see again. Anyone who protested the necessary bloodshed had no place in Inferni, among those who knew their duty to serve in this war. There were a few who shared similar expressions of worry, and one who even confessed their aversion to warfare. Hybrid sneered silently at the scarred coyote, wondering how one so adorned with trophies of his past battles could dislike a war. There were some creatures Hybrid would never understand. Luckily for him, he could simply ignore them, and hopefully, the annoyance would just go away.



Soon enough, Gabriel spoke again, addressing the suggestion of using mechanical animals to attack the Dahlians. Hybrid saw Gabriel glance toward Anselm, wondering what that could have meant. He shrugged it off, figuring it had something to do with the traps. If they did set them up, Gabriel was right: everyone would need to know the exact positions of the traps so they weren't accidental targets. The Aquila spoke again, and once he was finished, Hybrid added in his own growl of agreement. Haku Soul did not know mercy, so they should not show him any, either.




At the last moment, Hybrid noticed the annoying foreigner had found his way into the clan meeting. Hybrid offered the other male a toothy snarl, seething at the notion that the fool was in their clan. Somehow, that annoying kid had managed to kill a wolf and bring Kaena the remains. Hybrid hated ultimatums. They should have just killed them when they saw him.




Quickly enough, a yellowed coyote added volunteered himself as a trap-setter. The creature had shouted something particularly crude at Gabriel, and for a moment, Hybrid tensed up. He eyed the coyote with distaste, wondering who he was, and how he thought he could shout those obscenities at the Aquila. He smelled like Inferni, but still, Hybrid did not recognize him as a long time member. Hybrid had no way of knowing whether this coyote was somehow exempt from the rules of respect, or if he was too new and stupid to know better. Soon enough, it quieted down as the canines contemplated the yellow coyote's words. Hybrid wondered why no one had commented on the yellow coyote's outburst, but shrugged it off. He would claw the boy's eyes out later.



"We must fight to kill," Hybrid acknowledged, once again eyeing the yellow coyote with distrust. He did not know who this child was, but he would need to find out and soon. Hybrid could not tolerate this sort of disrespect for their war leader.