Though the coyote woman preferred the offensive tactic, to be certain, she was not blind to the advantages defense had. Inferni's borders had been well-guarded—it was their damn bad luck that Haku Soul had not been ensnared in one of their traps. There really was no preventing a disaster such as the fire; the cloud-colored woman was not so optimistic as to believe such things as that. Even so, she did lament the loss of territory. Her deft fingers tore at the plastic wrapping around the cigarette pack, though her sable ears were tilted toward Cassius to catch his words as the man spoke. She was having some difficulty interpreting his voice; he had a rather thick accent that the cloud-colored canine was not used to yet.
“Amara, huh?” she said, the surname not lost on her. Dawali Amara was the canine she knew, and the silver-furred canine had respect for him, of course—but who was this woman? Young or old, sister or mother, daughter or mate? The hybrid woman found herself curious of this, and she leaned forward on the counter, prying a cigarette from the pack. Putting it to her mouth, she leaned forward, scouring the remains on the counter for a lighter. “What'd you think of her? Pretty?” she asked, leering at the dusky-furred man in a way entirely inappropriate for her grandmotherly age. Not that she cared—it had been inappropriate with Ahren, to say the least, and such things had never stopped her before.
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