There were many ways in which Kaena had failed. Being a mother was partially one of those—she had not provided adequately for her first litter, her last litter. She had failed those children, but at least Arkham, Rachias, and Andrezej had the rest of the family to depend on—the same could not be said for Kerberos and Maeryn. It was mind-blowing to think that the former of that pair was seven years old now, quite nearly an old man himself. Though they had fought once before, the hybrid woman could not help but feel that they would have mended their differences over time; for the sake of his half-siblings, Kerberos had seemed at least partially willing to forget his vengeance on his mother.
The silver-furred coyote frowned, her fingers still stroking at the straw-colored hair, straight and cropped short, styled much nicer than Kaena's hair had ever been. The braids which had once adorned her mane had long come undone, and the hybrid woman had no idea how to twist them so tightly and the Malai canines who had done it for her last were thousands of miles and many months behind her. “He won't be anything more than an upturned patch of dirt, soon enough. If anyone bothers to bury him, that is,” the silver-furred coyote said darkly. Inferni would have its vengeance—Kaena would have hers, Rikka would have hers. The coyote clan would not stand to see the blue-eyed monster breathing for much longer.
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