tell me i survived

[Castor]

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He wasn't a supremacist, but he dislike coyotes on pretense. Initially it had been driven into him by his father, but after he had met a few coyotes on his own, the idea metastasized. Now however, there was a clear difference from the blind hate he had shown when he was younger. While he still hated them by definition, he showed tolerance by allowing a moment to gauge them individually against nothing. In a way, it wasn't the coyotes that he hated, it was the hate itself that drove him to hate. If there was not a predisposition that clearly stated division between coyotes and wolves, the hate wouldn't exist, and they would hate each other for personal reasons instead of species accordance. But the predisposition would never alter, and it would never disappear.

The blatant scent of coyote just inside the borders arose the cry of the chained monster within him. Coyotes typically threw themselves out of joint in an irrational rage when a wolf set foot across their borders; exactly what Castor wanted to do when a coyote set foot across wolf borders, and maybe it was his own youth that wanted the irrational part. His logical mind took over though and restrained that beast within him, heading toward the source of the scent. When he arrived however, it was no longer necessary to consciously hold himself in check. The coyote was young, not to mention...

"Yes?" he rumbled, his lack of any real interest suddenly morphing into some semblance of interest, stepping closer to the young coyote hybrid. He looked curiously like Arkham, smelled like Arkham smelled, and already, he had an idea of why he was here. That is, if his original theory was sound.

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