------In all honesty, Anselm considered himself more of a wolf than a coyote. His father had been of pure blood--it was his mother's mixed genes that threw a wrench into everything. Even so, it was not possible for him to be over a quarter coyote, and he may have been even slightly less. Due to unfortunate circumstances, he had wound up in a really bad neighbourhood--here even this slight difference was exaggerated until it became an issue. In another life, perhaps he could have blended seamlessly into wolf culture, but for now he was stuck as a hybrid with tainted blood. Even if more liberal, open-minded folks accepted him as one of their own, in his mind he was stuck. He would always resent this.
------An ear flicked with renewed interest as she spoke of her missing mate--although he wasn't sure of their relationship himself. Obviously, this Naloxone was not her child. It wasn't impossible that he was a parent, however--eh, whatever. Male, Naloxone, knows Aspyhxia. Check. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him," he assured her, militantly. This was how he spoke to most members of Inferni, regardless of who outranked him or who was technically a subordinate. It was all business here--there was no room for fooling around or petty disagreements within the ranks. They were a unit and in his mind, this strict business-like interaction was requisite. He knew he'd never take a personal interest in their lives.
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