782.
There was very little Kaena had to add herself for these thoughts of war. They almost made her dizzy; for once in her life the prospect of fighting did not excite her. It did not light her blood on fire as it always had, instead, there was a chilling sort of sensation rushing throughout her. This was fear, and though it had been foreign to her in youth she understood it far better now; it was becoming a familiar thing to the silver-furred Centurion. The coyote woman's head dipped slightly and the thoughts of what exactly had brought this war about filled her head, as much as she tried to shove those thoughts away. The other canine seemed to have mixed feelings about war. Some of their reactions were to be expected; it was quite like Hybrid to demand blood, and for all the reasons Kaena valued that in him, now it seemed more important than ever. One needed a twisted-up monster to destroy another twisted-up monster; it was for this reason that Gabriel had called on Samael when the silver-furred Centurion had told him of what had gone on between herself and Haku. The fresh cuts and smell of slightly stale blood coated both of them, but still Haku walked the earth—they had not been able to succeed. Who would have expected for it to be so easy? The best it seemed that the hybrid could hope for was that her sons had inflicted the maximum damage against Dahlia de Mai and its leader.
Some of the coyotes were less enthusiastic on the prospect of war, but others proposed plans—the hybrid half-heartedly listened to them, unable to focus on what was happening around her. This was entirely her fault; her family might very well die because of her. The silvery hybrid could not shake this thought; it clung to her desperately as though it had been glued to her very mind, imprinted over her brain and stomped into her head. The coyote woman had not been present for the last war with Dahlia, but she did not need that experience to know personally that Gabriel spoke the truth—wolves were always less-than-respectful of coyote borders, and in the midst of war, they would be even less so. The faint scent of Dahlia de Mai clung to their fur; trespassing on wolf lands was a surefire way to earn retribution for their closest neighbor. The idea that she could very well die, that Halo might die, her whole family might be ripped to shreds—still stuck on the silver-furred hybrid's mind. A small, pale gold presence in the rear of the gaggle of canines caught her eye; she had not expected Vieira but there was not an ounce of anger within the canine. The Aquila had called, and regardless of Vieira's personal dedication to Kae, she was as required to be here as any other member.
The hybrid wanted to catch her eye and draw her closer; the tawny woman seemed entirely uncomfortable in the mess of unfamiliar and familiar canines both. Kaena did not, however, feeling such an action might be inappropriate or looked down upon in some manner, so her attention drifted, drawn to Cotl as the other canine spoke. Though he was certainly a weird one—to put it mildly—he was certainly proving to be a useful member of the clan; he had brought his brother here in some manner, and their friend Fritz had followed, even if the third seemed quite troubled with the prospect of so much fighting. The talk of traps seemed too technical for the hybrid's mind; she decided then and there she would not be involved in this unless personally requested by Anselm, Cassius, Marik, or Cotl. Those four would make quite a team—with Anselm's personal knowledge of the territory both inside and out of Inferni, Cotl's twisted nature (here the coyote woman thought of implementing acid or scorpions to the traps), Cassius's apparent mechanical knowledge, and Marik's technical knowledge and proficiency for working with his hands... she was not needed there. Her camp more than likely was with Hybrid and Samael—for Kaena, this war was very, very personal, and she would not hesitate a split second to spill blood and destroy other lives. She didn't even require provocation to do so. Though she remained quite silent, a small, wicked-looking smile formed on the hybrid's face, the devilish look in her eye revealing to the others what she dreamed of—blood, bodies, the wrecked and ravaged corpse of Haku Soul left to rot to dust, strung up from their trees. Dahlia de Mai would pay for their leader's crimes.