clouds are spitting dust.

Myrika Tears · 01-26-2012, 04:24 PM

[html]

(735)
The first two paragraphs are skippable -- the rest, uhm. Strangely enough, this is a long post where most things are kind of relevant? XD YOU MAKE ME WRITE RELEVANT LONG POSTS FOR ONCE, IS GOOD. <3 Also lol myrika.

Fiercest horse in the North, the woman jested, grinning. Eira was not a particularly skittish horse, but neither was the blue roan battle-tested. A storm had frightened her, after all. Myrika had always wondered how her mare had initially reacted to the strangers who had taken her. The roan-colored coyote herself had not been fond of Zemyhot Pacrel, and the few times she had seen the hybrid interact with Eira, the horse hadn't seemed particularly keen on Zemy, either. Perhaps this was the closest Eira had ever come to battling -- Myri rather thought her mare had bucked and reared to throw the ropes of the Pacrel brothers. At least, she thought so in the fanciful way one does when one daydreams revenge, however petty. In all likelihood, tired and hungry Eira had acquiesced immediately to the hands of strangers, hoping they would provide her with food, water, and a good brushing. One thing Myrika could not begrudge the Pacrels on was their treatment of Eira -- she had been well-kept when Myrika had finally stumbled across their farm, at the very least.

No? she murmured, more to herself than the scarred woman before her. She could imagine Vesper disliking caves and disliking the mansion, but there were few other acceptable places to live within Inferni -- she had taken the schoolhouse, after all. While Myrika certainly would not have minded a roommate -- or three -- the russet-tinged coyote thought others must think she'd claimed the whole building. In actuality, Myrika used but two rooms of the little schoolhouse. Sometimes her larger projects spilled into the hallway, but this was more for her own convenience than necessity. Rather than bump into her stretching frames and other larger goods, she simply set them in the hallways. Sure, the rearmost, largest room was positively stacked with the various furniture and decor Myrika had removed when she gutted her two rooms, but there were four perfectly usable rooms left. Still, she thought others might think it awkward to move in on top of her without asking.

That's good, at least. It can get very... lonesome out in the village, though. I don't get many visitors, you know? The rust-hued coyote offered another smile at this. At least in the caves, you do have some coyotes near you, if you ever do decide you'd like a visit. The coyote's ears pricked with interest as the other spoke of her beginnings. Myrika cocked her head when Vesper finished, but not of any confusion at the story -- Vesper seemed strangely reluctant, perhaps even ashamed. Myri, who was at least well-versed enough in social situations to recognize discomfort -- perhaps because she was quite well-acquainted with it herself -- smiled reassuringly. That doesn't sound too strange to me, the woman said. Well -- maybe the non-Luperci part. I didn't actually know you could be born that way. But not strange in an 'eww, you're weird' way -- strange like -- i-interesting, the coyote said, stammering this last word out as she realized just what she was saying. Of course, the realization had come right in the middle of her sentence, and there was no way to rescind the words.

Rather than dwell on this, Myrika was quick to speak of other matters, the droop of her ears and rapidity of her speech evident of her sudden fluster. You could always hang a big pelt over the entryway. Or maybe a few pelts stitched together, you know? I don't quite know how you would hang it, but I can help you with the pelt part, at least. If you want, I mean, she said, now feeling doubly embarrassed for having admitted interest in Vesper and offering a gift, all in almost the same breath. If Vesper didn't think she was odd before, now the scarred woman certainly would. Myrika could not help herself, though -- the other canine seemed to exude confidence. If she was not actually confident, she put on a damned good show. The rust-tinged coyote also found the scars as fascinating as Kaena's, and if Vesper was anything like the Lykoi matriarch, each scar would be accompanied by a riveting tale. Myrika knew enough not to ask such terribly inappropriate questions, however, and the tawny woman was glad for that -- she'd done enough to embarrass herself here.

Myrika is by Alaine!

Login




Remember me Lost Password?