M-There Will Be No Violins When You Die

Eris Eternity · 11-13-2011, 02:32 AM

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Eris is by Kiri!

The dark hybrid listened with rising interest as the pallid woman continued, her chartreuse eyes lit from within. She would not have guessed that this woman was relative to Naniko, but she would not have balked at the revelation of adopted parentage. It was the very same concept as the one Salsola employed, after all -- family was a feeling, certainly not defined by the blood running in one's veins. Eris was curious to know who now led Anathema beside Naniko. In her memory, only the dark stranger, Azalea, had sat at the head of the Anathema pack before. That woman had been a ghost, though -- barely more than a faint spark in Eris's memory.

Despite her curiosity, the dark hybrid reigned in her inquiries, remaining seated and quiet to allow the mottled girl to continue speaking. Miqui sat a few feet to her left, apparently intending to to do the same as his Auxiliary. Whether this was his own will or whether he was simply following her lead, Eris could not say, and Eris did not care. Her sharp eyes were busied, taking in the younger canine's form. There was no doubt in Eris's mind of this one's youth. She wondered if her own age was apparent in contrast with this Esmeralda; she certainly felt it. While Eris was far from ancient, the coyote woman knew she would lose her charm and physical wiles sooner rather than later. This pale beauty had years yet before that deadline, and The Auxiliary could not suppress a twinge of jealousy in her chest.

Miqui grunted what might have been a laugh. Is good for slave to slither like snake, he said, nodding approval even as he reached into their satchel of light provisions. The man produced a skin filled with water -- Eris had sweetened it with a pinch of dried mint leaves, wrapped into a shaving of hide so paper-thin it was translucent. Molcaxitl had taught her this, as with many of the practical things Eris now knew. The tawny coyote drank and motioned to pass the drink to the sable coyote, who waved it off. He made to offer the skin to Esmeralda, immediately digging back into the pack to produce a strip of dried meat. This, too, had been seasoned and dried expertly by Molca. Eris thought it was rabbit, but one could never be certain with the smoked bits. All were tasty enough, in her opinion. The hybrid offered a rare smile; it flashed across his muzzle and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Didn't bring much, but sharing is good, the dusky-hued man said, his accented voice gravelly, as always. Eris thought she detected a hint of warmth in the man's voice nonetheless; perhaps Salsola would break him out of his shell, after all. She turned her thoughts back to the mottled woman before her, having fully absorbed what she'd spoken and formulated her response. Well, my poor dear girl, she purred, putting a hand to the end of her muzzle and shaking her head. I can't imagine the sun burning so. You might dress yourself in a cloak? One with a hood, she offered. Though some find it difficult to wear clothing -- I am among them, she said, as if this was not obvious by her stark nakedness.

But -- you say -- your mother -- Naniko? Who is this Rakeeb? The sub-leader, yes? she asked, trying to confirm concrete information and turn the conversation back toward that which was useful to her. Anathema interests me, but I would not return, The Auxiliary said, shaking her head and offering a brief, secretive smile. It was one she would have shared with Miqui, but now was not the time. You seem to have been spurned; I was not, but I could not find a place there, either. These were truths, and there was nothing wrong with revealing them -- it was personal and irrelevant to Salsola, after all.

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