she won't bite unless it brings me joy.

Myrika Tears · 01-05-2012, 01:23 PM

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The coyote's brownish nose was pressed nearly to the earth, and she inhaled the passing scents deeply. Here, an Inferni member -- there, a stranger, a southlands wolf. One of the mountain pack had passed by here not more than a few days ago. Myrika was wary of those mountain-dwellers. She had thought Ichika rather pretty, true enough, but her uncle's manner, and his quiet companion, had left her with a rather odd feeling about Ichika in particular. Ezekiel's later pronouncement to stay away from Sage's new pack had solidified and confirmed the rust-hued woman's opinion of her uncle's pack. They were not to be trusted. Friendly faces they might have, their hearts might not be quite so smiley.

The rust-hued coyote moved slowly, meandering in circles. There was no particular destination in mind; she had planned to search for a suitable scent trail, one that interested her enough to make her follow, and go from there. Now, however, the woman smelled little of interest. She certainly did not wish to pursue one of her own pack just this moment -- she would have been within Inferni's borders that very moment, were it the case. The mountain-dwellers were utterly out of the question -- Myri had no desire to travel anywhere near the very place Ezekiel had forbidden them to go.

It was only after several long strides that she caught a new scent, carried by the wind rather than stuck to the ground -- Halo's scent. Despite her pronouncement to avoid Inferni's members and seek an outsider on this day, the coyote was intrigued by the freshness of Halo's scent. She trailed after it some distance, finally catching sight of the cinnamon-tinged woman. Halo was in her Optime form, and Myrika felt suddenly awkward in her large Lupus form. She was nearly as bulky as a wolf, and here was this perfect and petite flower.

Myri knew Halo well enough to know, however, that petite flower the Triarii most certainly was not. The hilt of the sword strapped to her back was evidence enough of that; were one desirous of further proof, one need only look into her harsh crimson eyes. Myrika liked Halo quite a lot, enough to bother the woman while she was in the D'Neville, in her own room, and Myri was not quite sure why. Halo was a fair bit harsher and perhaps more prone to gasconade of her strengths than any Myrika normally chose to call friend, and yet the rust-hued coyote was intrigued all the same. Perhaps it was Halo's looks -- Myri never would have dared admit such aloud, that a cousin had caught her fancy, but was it so strange? It wasn't as if they'd been raised together, after all -- it wasn't as if she were interested in Cassie.

The Lupus woman's tail wavered a greeting in the air, though it dropped back to a relaxed position after this greeting. Though they were apparently equals in rank, Myri presumed she'd always feel inferior to Halo, and perhaps she well should -- the red-eyed woman had what seemed like long years of service in Inferni over Myrika. The question seemed something like a command, but Myri was happy to answer it in any case, a faint smile showing on her muzzle. Nowhere in particular. I've already scouted the borders for today and I thought I might leave Inferni, at least for a few hours, the woman offered, hoping Halo would not find this strange. You smell as if you've been away a few days, the coyote offered, figuring Halo might react to this better than a direct inquiry as to her whereabouts. Myri had phrased the statement in such a way that the cinnamon-hue Triarii might deflect it or answer it, depending on her preference.

Myrika is by Nat!

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