Running from the Tide
#7
((Kind of light-headed... Having a hard time focusing.))

"We have a common interest, then." The idea of crossing the border and meeting the leader filled her with trepidation, and at the same time, excitement. Her tail twitched as she attempted to contain her emotions. Alma looked at the border, at the skulls lined there, then at the 'half wolf' who had extended the invitation. She could not reject it, and it had gone well so far - far better than she thought it would go.

"Nice to meet you," She said, not sure of what to say. Ezekiel and Enkiel. I hope I don't get the two confused.

The rust-colored coywolf picked up her bag and tied it around her waist. With one hand, she carried her spear and the other her bow. Nervously, she wondered if she would have to provide an example of her skill. She hadn't had anyone watching her hunt since she was a child.

That wasn't her only concern, however. Her quiver had broken while chasing a deer one morning, and she hadn't yet found a replacement for it - or the arrows she'd lost when the bottom fell out of the quiver. If she had to provide an example of her skill, she would surely look stupid for lacking arrows.


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