04-25-2012, 03:30 AM
After her brief but informative meeting with the egyptian dog she had gathered up all her belongings and set out to the Salsola pack which was fortunately near by. Alessandra was determined to get into this pack, though she knew the difficulty she would have with the first, initial meeting with the higher ups. The inky woman had made sure her appearance was impeccable, she had guessed first impressions were important and she didn't want to show up looking like a ragged mess to such a secretive pack, other then what she learned from Imhotep she didn't know much about them at all besides the fact that they kept slaves, something that she knew she would very rarely find in the other packs scattered about Nova Scotia.
The steady hoofbeats of Valhalla jerked her out of her thoughts and she pulled on the reins and sat back in the saddle gently but firmly, she did not want to get too close to their borders for fear of being accused of trespassing, something that was cautioned to her. It was pretty standard, but with a pack that enslaved others she could only imagine what the punishment would be like. All three of them wore their skull headdresses, Max looking the most fearsome in his and the horse looking equally intimidating. Sky-blue eyes laid back in the depth of hers, and she looked out of the eye sockets silently and calmly as she motioned for the great white slave to stop. Without a word he raised his hands to create a makeshift cradle for her to dismount and this she did in one fluid, graceful motion.
With her out of the saddle she looked her companions over, making everything was neat and in order. Finding everything to her liking the ebony woman straightened out her rabbit-fur lined cloak and reached into one of the inside pockets to retrieve a gift, something that she thought she should bring. After long deliberation she had decided on a piece that had been with her family for generations, though weather it had been actually used was another matter. Before she presented it to the authority of the pack she carefully examined it. It was a perfectly crafted and sized sacrificial dagger, made of glass and thick bone, the origin of which she did not know. The blade was glass, and it was clear and free of scratches, though dangerously sharpened. The handle was strong, bleach bone with a small glass vial embedded into it, filled with a red liquid. This liquid was blood, and it was from a black panther from the jungles of India.
One of her ancestors went on a hunting trip from Norway and slayed the cat that attacked him with this very dagger, then re-crafted the handle to fit his gory triumph. It would be hard to give it away, but it felt right to be going to this pack and not stolen from some worthless scum out in the neutral lands. Satisfied she made the right choice in a gift, she re-wrapped it in it's black and silver sheath and held it gently but firmly in her paws. Looking over at her slave, she smiled and nodded before looking at the thorny borders, raising her maw to the sky and yipping to announce her presence and call for packland leadership to gain entrance into the pack of Salsola.
The steady hoofbeats of Valhalla jerked her out of her thoughts and she pulled on the reins and sat back in the saddle gently but firmly, she did not want to get too close to their borders for fear of being accused of trespassing, something that was cautioned to her. It was pretty standard, but with a pack that enslaved others she could only imagine what the punishment would be like. All three of them wore their skull headdresses, Max looking the most fearsome in his and the horse looking equally intimidating. Sky-blue eyes laid back in the depth of hers, and she looked out of the eye sockets silently and calmly as she motioned for the great white slave to stop. Without a word he raised his hands to create a makeshift cradle for her to dismount and this she did in one fluid, graceful motion.
With her out of the saddle she looked her companions over, making everything was neat and in order. Finding everything to her liking the ebony woman straightened out her rabbit-fur lined cloak and reached into one of the inside pockets to retrieve a gift, something that she thought she should bring. After long deliberation she had decided on a piece that had been with her family for generations, though weather it had been actually used was another matter. Before she presented it to the authority of the pack she carefully examined it. It was a perfectly crafted and sized sacrificial dagger, made of glass and thick bone, the origin of which she did not know. The blade was glass, and it was clear and free of scratches, though dangerously sharpened. The handle was strong, bleach bone with a small glass vial embedded into it, filled with a red liquid. This liquid was blood, and it was from a black panther from the jungles of India.
One of her ancestors went on a hunting trip from Norway and slayed the cat that attacked him with this very dagger, then re-crafted the handle to fit his gory triumph. It would be hard to give it away, but it felt right to be going to this pack and not stolen from some worthless scum out in the neutral lands. Satisfied she made the right choice in a gift, she re-wrapped it in it's black and silver sheath and held it gently but firmly in her paws. Looking over at her slave, she smiled and nodded before looking at the thorny borders, raising her maw to the sky and yipping to announce her presence and call for packland leadership to gain entrance into the pack of Salsola.