:O
It seemed as if all of Inferni was on high alert. Naturally, the silver-furred hybrid was included in this; as the second-in-command she was expected to keep her eyes and ears open, even if it was Anselm's job to focus on the borders and other packs. It would not be good for Kaena personally or the Inferni clan as a whole if she were to slack on her duties even in the least, and so she spent much of her time looping the border, endlessly pacing up and down the perimeter. For her to appear useless in these rough times would certainly bode ill for the coyote clan. Occasionally she would run into other members of the clan, doing the same thing as she was—with so many members, it was difficult not to run into another coyote these days. Even so, it was never enough. Fifty or a hundred thousand coyotes were not enough to scare Haku off; they would need to dethrone the Dahlian king in order to be safe once again.
As the hybrid woman made her way forward, a strange scent entered her nose, one she immediately recognized. It was no mystery to the Centurion, but there was still a long moment of hesitation in her, one that drove a knife of guilt, fear, and anxiety into her heart. She had desired and dreaded this moment equally, fantasies of demanding to know where the fuck she went and what the fuck happened, nightmares of breaking to little bits in front of her. The hybrid did not know which would happen. For a terrible moment she almost thought she might ignore the red wolf and leave someone else to greet her. Then, she moved from her stock-still position and headed quickly toward the source of the scent, happening across its owner no more than ten minutes later.
They were both scarred now, surely—there were a few more adorning the monochrome canine's body since then, but the largest and the most serious of these wounds was somewhere no one, not Fatin nor anyone else in the world, could see. The Lupus form was a surprise, but Kaena kept that from her face, retaining the stoicism that was so difficult for her to play at. She felt as if emotion might crack through the facade and fulminate from her at any moment, tearing her stony exterior to pieces. The gravitas of the situation was not lost on Kaena; there were no better healers in the world than Fatin Kali, and Inferni would be a far better place with her here. Even then, the hybrid woman's emotion dared to rise, bile in her throat daring to form—how many nights had she sat, stinking and wallowing and beyond drunk, beyond wrecked from Haku, wishing there were soft red-furred arms to wrap her up and a soft voice to whisper and tell her it was alright? She didn't speak, remaining well within Inferni's territory, staring forward at the ghost who had returned to its midst, waiting for her to speak first.
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