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Myrika is by Aly!
The coyote bit her lip and looked down. She hadn't wanted to think about -- much less talk about -- Thornloe; it was buried in her past, and unlikely she'd see it again. Though she wondered if her father and sister were there, she could not leave Inferni: perhaps she might someday dispatch someone she trusted to seek it out. No, she said, finally, shaking her head. Not here. It's more common here than where I was from, and actually -- traders ask after books a lot, so there must be at least a few canines other than you and me who like to read. The hybrid hesitated a split second before she continued. When I was little, I always had my nose in a book, and the kids my age where I lived didn't like the half-coyote bookworm with big ears, she said, grabbing one of her ears almost angrily, giving it a tug. She left out the part about the tiny muzzle, big feet, and eventually, too-tall, too-big, freak, and all the other words.
The talk of airplanes was enough to brighten her at least a little; she listened with mounting interest as the man described airplanes, wrinkling her nose at their description. She'd seen other human places that seemed crammed and boxed. This habit, above all, vexed her: while she did enjoy having housemates, her own space was also key to her happiness, too. She wouldn't be happy living in her room with Kaena, or Kaena, Halo, Amnesty, and Oblivion. Humans had some strange habits, she said, shaking her head. Wouldn't it be more comfortable to just... have a few seats? In a smaller plane? She didn't understand economy and such things as a ticket price; comfort was paramount. During such a flighted journey, all the extra room and comfort would be necessary to abate the natural instinct to panic under such stresses -- or so she thought.
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