And What Does Fate Say?
#7
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I think that it’s fine, ^=^~ But sorry for my crap—my slowness is making me dumb
500+



The golden male’s discontent grew increasingly apparent, and she wondered why he would speak to her of such things. She did not think that the purpose of his presence was to discuss the ways of territory. "The wolves and canines of these lands have grown idle," the soft melody continued, although she held no tone of her judgement within her words. The purpose of that statement was to offend no one, nor was it to make judgement. Its purpose was simply to make an observation. And the warrior, who had once carried but the shape of the wolf, watched as the wolves adopted the strange habits of the humans. She did not know what to think of such a thing, but she hoped only that nature had allowed such a thing. "These several miles will not dampen a lupine spirit." A wolf would simply have accepted such a boundary, but she understood as well that the wolves were changing.


"Perhaps that is so," the warrior replied quietly, intrigued by the strange numbers that he used to describe the territory and its shape. "But not all lands are safely traversed, nor are all lands ideal for hunting." Ethereal Eclipse was dense and dark, and while game may have been plentiful, it was difficult for many members to hunt through the thick foliage and the many trees. And because of such dense terrain, it was dangerous for the young and, when the time came, for the old to move without coming to danger. The open lands between the older Dahlian boaders and that of Halifax had proved to be much more suitable, and the diversity in the terrain provided much more for the Dahlian pack as a whole. "What would have been the central point," the tranquil song querried. The warrior was curious. What point would have been made central? She did not know whether packs of wolves uninfected by the virus would create and expand their territories in such a way. Having not been trained in such a way, could not say that she knew. But perhaps the information was hidden somewhere in instinct, waiting to be unearthed.


"Anselm," the warrior repeated, dipping her maw in greeting. It was as if the knowing of a name required such a thing. "Cwmfen nic Graine," she offered in return, knowing that he no doubt knew her name already. Gabriel was his cousin, Anselm claimed, and it had been apparent that a relationship had existed between the two in question when the Inferni leader’s name had been invoked moments before. "Your clan seems to carry much blood." It was not natural for wolves to remain, for too much of the same blood provoked infertility. But she supposed that coyotes must be different. "You appear as a wolf," she noted, the unspoken question more significant than her words. She knew that Inferni did not permit wolves beyond the boarders. He must have been a mix of some sort, although she could not see it. And the warrior did not know why such things mattered, but her curiosity bid her to know, to question and understand.

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