Word Count :: 374 I cannot guarantee that Eris is in the best of moods, so repliers beware? XD Highway 103.
It had been days or weeks since the coal-hued woman had seen the coyote clan's borders. The last person she'd spoken with had been her mother, and Eris hadn't enjoyed that conversation in the least. She'd been tricked, she'd been betrayed, and she was utterly powerless to do anything about it. If she fought her mother on this point, if she tried to force the scarred coyote to reveal the truth, she would move backwards, and her mother would grow more stubborn. She would never learn the truth of her paternity if she shoved back. She could not resort to such tactics; they simply would not work. Eris barely knew her mother, and yet she knew this to be absolute truth. There was no kindness in the scarred woman for Eris, and this would have been perfectly acceptable to the coal-shaded woman if Kaena did not possess the knowledge Eris so desperately desired. She had traveled or wandered almost to the edge of this known world, to the ocean at the end of the peninsula. The air here was crisp and smelled of salt; Eris inhaled it deeply and found it free of fresh scents.
Itzcitla was not present, but the cat was close as always. These hot summer days were perfect for him, and he spent much of his time sunning himself in the trees. He always came as the sable hybrid called him, though—she had no fear of him disappearing. Without the cat, she surely would have starved—by now the ocelot was adept at taking down raccoons, and he was growing more ferocious with even larger prey. He would get used to the animals of this part of the world eventually. Eris was pleased with his progress, and displeased with her own. She had learned nothing since coming to Inferni, and she had spent the last several weeks skulking about this end of the territory. The highway stretched in front of her, long and straight and extending forever as far as her eyes could tell. She did not truly know where she was, but the sable coyote was not so completely useless that she did not know to head north to find home. She would return—when she was ready.
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