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Myrika is by me!
The tawny-furred woman was not aware of just how much she had changed in recent months. She had been with Inferni just over half a year with the coming of deep winter, though it was hard to imagine. She had come to the pack at the end of summer, greeted by Talitha. It was her one and only encounter with Ezekiel's half-sister, and from the way he spoke of her, she dared not broach this subject with him any further than he offered.
There's nothing wrong with that. You know I was told Inferni was a place of madness and ceaseless bloodshed, she said, fidgeting in Eira's saddle and glancing back in Kaena's direction. The old woman still seemed absorbed in their surroundings, though now she leaned forward in her own seat, as if listening in. Oblak was a good choice of horse for her, and Myrika was glad their equines were getting along quite so well. It might be more difficult when they came to the river, but she there was time enough between now and then. She wanted to say she hoped the trouble would come when she was gone, but she did not know when she was leaving -- if she was leaving, truly, at this point. And anyway, it was a cowardly thing to say -- better to try and make Ezekiel think she was brave, however far from the truth it was.
I know better now, but... well, Inferni did earn the skulls around its border. It wasn't without being provoked, though, she said, shrugging and frowning. She hadn't thought a lot about that. Her observations of Inferni's history were cut and dry, the observations of a scientist or researcher watching some vicious wild species. She had not thought of her own place in it and what she might be called upon to do someday, and it was an uncomfortable subject -- not something she wished to ruminate over in the presence of her cousin and grandmother. Inferni was and could still be tramontane -- she was not a barbarian, and she did not know how to kill or how to defend.
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