the colors of the mad and the wicked

Eris Eternity · 01-13-2012, 01:34 PM

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Thank you. ^___^o;; A lot of this post is silly introspection; feel free to skip the first two paragraphs, as they're action-free. x: And I would think they can tell that, yeah! Especially because Eris has young bebes. c:

Eris is by Nat!

The sable-shaded canine never truly ceased seeking new blood for Salsola. Their family was not bound by blood, as many packs in these lands seemed to be. Where Anathema was composed primarily of D'Angelos -- at least, before Larkspur and Eris's own children had departed the pack -- and Inferni of Lykois, the Salsola pack was comprised of various bloodlines, as well as some complete anomalies. Eris did not think Denver had any family within the pack, and she knew Hrafn did not. Magnolia, Siv, Bastion, and Esmeralda -- none of these held relations within Salsola the sable Auxiliary was aware of.

And yet -- they were family, in a way far deeper and more meaningful than simple blood. They had all chosen one another, each willingly adhering themselves to the viscid core of the thistle kingdom. It was only natural she should seek to expand her family by whatever means necessary -- she was finished with children, at least for the foreseeable future, and so her recourse was the outsiders. She knew recruiting was a gamble, and yet most of those they'd recruited thus far had excelled within the ranks. Two to depart Salsola since its foundation were, in fact, founding members -- only one of the recruits, Jeremiah, had drifted from the pack, leaving after many months within their ranks.

Such departures saddened Eris, but she could not force every canine to remain within Salsola. Liliya had been coerced into the pack, surely, but where the sable-hued canine did not hold sufficient leverage, she could not forcibly retain her Family. In this instance, too, she did not think she could coerce this stranger to Salsola, should he prove himself worthy of the pack. Liliya had been an utterly random chance, one whose rarity the dark woman lamented. Already, however, the scarred man before them was proving respectful -- among his first actions was a bow, which the dark-shaded coyote received with a broadening of her grin and a polite nod of her own head.

The dark hybrid rather liked her high perch, and so she did not dismount even as the stranger spoke; instead, Eris listened with rapt attention, both sable ears curved toward the sound of the mottled stranger's deep voice. Her chartreuse eyes sought his gaze and found it delightfully lowered, not even so high as to reach Molcaxitl's face. The words he spoke also pleased her, though she pondered his age a moment, contemplating why one so old would have wandered all his long life. She came to realize it was not age she saw on his face but worldliness, aided considerably by the scars crossing his face. The dark-hued hybrid realized the stranger was younger than she was, when she had initially mistaken them for same-aged canines.

This pleased her even more -- she took but a moment to respond, introducing herself without her surname, though she would surely reveal it later, should he find himself amongst her association. Eris, she said, simply. Molcaxitl lives to serve me -- don't worry on her account, the sable woman said. As she had not directly addressed the tawny slave, Axi remained silent, orange-yellow eyes focused on Trader's gray hooves and the flaxen yellow stalks of dead leaf debris beneath them. I thank you for your compliments. It is rare to find a man so respectful as yourself, she said, complimenting him in turn -- tit for tat, as it were. Does the wind seek to take you home, now? Perhaps to one of the soft southern packs? Her inquiry was pleasant enough, as if she meant to offer traveler's advice if he responded positively.

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