monax

Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-14-2012, 07:18 PM

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As a boy, the coyote had learned quite quickly that there were rules and regulations to be followed within the social structure of canines. Wolves especially, he had learned, obeyed this demand with frightful urgency. After they had left Fatin, it had been her brother, Tristan, that established these ideas within him. Slashing fangs and body-language alone had put forth rules that Ezekiel followed to this day. He likened his ability to “speak” through combat down to such a thing.

Ezekiel was, therefore, able to see the hesitation in her step even though her voice betrayed such doubt. Red ears fanned high, sharp and coyote-like in ways his heavy bulk would never be, and focused on the girl. A faint smile crossed his face, fading as he noted that someone else had failed to educate her on such matters. Perhaps this too, was Hybrid’s fault—if his daughter could not do such a thing, why would he expect it of this other litter?

“Well, your rank means you are a scout. Inferni’s scouts are expected to work together to cover our borders; you are the eyes and ears of this clan.” He shifted his weight and a ringed tail curled across a single well-muscled haunch. “Your father was a scout and a warrior of this clan for many years. I thought you might like to try scouting; do you want to do something else instead?”

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