She had kept a calm face when Sirius had taken her aside after the meal, smelling of meat and smoke and the tangy musk of a male in his prime. Salvia had listened intently to his vague instructions and vaguer still warnings. Bring me something from the heart of Inferni, he had told her. The risk was great; she had heard stories from her father about how terrible the coyotes were, and Eris would never speak of the place. Sending her into the lion’s den would have been suicide—save the fact that Salvia was not an ordinary child.
As soon as night had fallen, she had gone to the river. While no amount of water could wash away Salsola’s scent, the stronger ones from Supper came off. It did not surprise her to find her mother’s cat out. He often favored the water for hunting, citing it for easy prey. Salvia had spoken to him about her task, and the ocelot proved his loyalty to her family by suggesting something she had not thought of.
A noisy raccoon had given her an easy target. She stalked it and took it without a sound, breaking the neck with one solid shake of the head. Though he watched her with disgust, the cat informed her plainly she stunk like the animal instead of Salsola. Pleased, Salvia had left him the meal and crossed the river.
Her travel was silent and unfamiliar. She encountered no one for hours, and thought over and over what it was she was expected to find. Inferni was vast; how would she know what its heart was? These thoughts did not stop when she saw the first skull, a grotesque thing standing on a pike at the edge of the coyote’s territory. It frightened her, in the darkness, to imagine what had been done to the living wolf. Larkspur was right; these coyotes were savages.
She slunk through the Waste, pelt only slightly darker than the tall grass. A fresh trail caused her to balk and turn away from going south, and so she crept through Inferni’s heart and towards its eastern expanse. Trees gave her ample cover, and it was here she spotted what she imagined her uncle must have spoke of.
A Gothic mansion rose out of the gloom, covered in vines and surrounded by a black fence. It smelled strongly of coyotes and a yellowish flowering vine that covered many parts of the building and fence. A few faint lights glowed from within, warning her that she was intruding on the home of the clan. Dry fear filled her mouth, but she could not turn back. She swallowed that fear and let her mind focus only on the task at hand.
Salvia stalked the perimeter, silent and clinging to the shadows. She was not so bold as to walk in the front gate; but she was too large to slip into the fence elsewhere. Frustration grew until a large patch of that vine gave her more than ample cover from the stirring of horses. It was here, where the honeysuckle clung to her pelt and further hid her scent, that she found the hole. It was only slightly larger than the fence itself, but she believed it would be more than enough. Slipping through was easy, and once in, she found herself facing a smaller building. Something from inside this would have to do; she was not about to risk her safety by invading the larger house.
The wood made faint sounds under her feet, but to Salvia they sounded like thunder. She could smell a potent musk from one of the rooms, but no one stirred from within as she passed. It was, in truth, the scent of flowers that drew her further into the Guest House. This she followed until it led to a closed door. In her lupus form she was helpless against such a thing, but with the newfound ability to shift forms she gained an advantage. Hands worked the handle until it swung open.
She was met with a menagerie of drying herbs and medical supplies. Wandering through she looked for anything unique, anything that might impress her uncle. This went on for a few minutes before a stirring in the room next to this one startled her. Panicked, she grabbed a nearby jar of herbs and bolted away as quietly as possible. Getting through the fence in her Optime form proved trickier. She snagged her fur on the iron bars as she slipped through, and fearing she might have been discovered, ran eastward towards the border.
Once crossed, her panic slowed and eventually faded. The wide circle she took around Inferni took several more hours. Exhaustion sunk in when she found the field of sunflowers, and with the sky lightening, took her chances and slept there. It was a short rest; an hour or two at most. Salvia woke and yawned widely, finally taking the time to observe the jar she had stolen. It was dirty glass, containing some sort of greenish herb. Opening it told her little aside from its earthy scent, but she reasoned it had to be useful if someone had collected it.
With the sun rising to its peak she traveled westward, reaching the river by noon. This time she found the water more enjoyable, but did not linger for long. Still smelling of Inferni and the raccoon, she traveled to the area she reasoned Sirius would be. Her step was taken with ease now that she was home, bolstered by the fact she believed in her heart that she had passed her test. There would be no way to link the theft to Salsola, given her deception of scent. While her paws were indeed large for her age, she was still small and likely could pass for a hybrid coyote if her tracks were discovered.
Sirius’ scent wafted towards her, and taking a breath to steel her nerves, the girl called out to him. “Uncle?”
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