time like pennies in a jar

Eris Eternity · 05-30-2011, 12:35 AM

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Word Count » 502
AWKWARD POST IS AWKWARD

the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

Royalty was perhaps too strong a word, but Eris surely felt as if she was. She and Sirius reigned in this place, her Salsola. It was theirs and theirs alone, and they would make it great. The coal-hued woman departed from their borders with this certainty in her mind, rolling it pleasurably over and over in the reaches of her brain. It was nearly palpable to her, their success, though they were still so far away from it. Salsola might yet crumble in their fingers; it would depend on her ability to lead. Her lack of experience was not a comfort, of course -- even Eris was not so arrogant to think she could simply lead and all would be well. She was apprehensive in some ways, but already, Salsola's legacy was an undeniable truth to Eris. They would survive and succeed. There was simply no question in the coal hybrid's mind.

The air along the coast was cool, even with summer looming before them. Already there was fire in the air some days, unbearable heat that seemed permeate through her shadowy coat and cling to her very flesh, causing her to sag and droop and slow. She was used to the heat, of course -- Eterne had been hotter than this place, and it had never seen snow. Still, she was not built for it -- even her summer coat was too thick to easily withstand terrible heat, and she had spent her summers in Eterne very nearly motionless. Here, the woman had less heat to worry about, and the summers would not be so harsh on her. She was glad for that.

As she wandered along the coast, the hybrid paid close attention to her surroundings. She knew Salsola's territory well, but the sable-shaded coyote did not know the surrounding territories quite so well. Enemies might lurk anywhere, and she would keep watch over her pack, making sure they remained safely outside of Salsola. The scent of a stranger drifted over the wind, and the hybrid woman paused. The scent's bearer was still a distance away from her, and she might pass him by with nary a glance. It wouldn't do, however, to leave him quite so close to their territory unmolested. So, the hybrid altered her course, meandering toward the scent.

His appearance was strange, utterly foreign to the hybrid -- his fur seemed curled in places, straight in others, and he did not appear particularly wolfish. Hesitating but a moment, Eris made her way forward confidently, clutching the driftwood stick. She had been taking it with her on journeys outside of Salsola. It would do poorly for protection, she knew, but it was better than nothing. The coal hybrid appeared curious, her ears swept forward inquisitively, though she remained at a wary distance from him. “Coming, or going?” she inquired, figuring him to be a traveller on his way into or out of Nova Scotia. She did not immediately recognize the faded and faint pack scent on him.

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