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Myrika is by me!
The tawny-furred woman was not afraid. Perhaps she ought to be -- many of Inferni and Salsola both were riding out to greet the wolves today. Both coyotes she knew and strangers from their neighboring pack rode all around her. There was no tight formation to be kept, of course -- some lagged behind, others charged ahead. Many seemed eager to greet the fight. Myrika decided she was simply indifferent -- if she had to kill today, she would. Ithiel rode at her side, both of them ahorse. Lystra seemed especially nervous with all the surrounding horses and riders, but Cahal was implacable. Eira was too greatly pregnant to be risked at this point, and Myri hadn't ridden her in some weeks for that very fact.
The Consul had considered walking in her Secui form -- she had seen the power of this form when Vesper fought, and had wished to try such herself. Ithiel had advised against it, however, and the redhead deferred to his experience where combat was concerned. Instead, she was armed with a knife and another Ithiel-made wooden staff, since the first had splintered. This was pitiably little against the armor these wolves seemed to wear, but Myrika didn't intend to throw herself into the midst of the fighting. There were others more eager for blood who would do that.
The dust-colored coyote and his mount soon pulled away and ahead of her. With his arrows, Ithiel was a force to be recoked with, but perhaps he was most effective at the forefront of their haphazard column. Myri soon nudged Cahal to a faster pace, and the big horse flew over the ground. The thick Dampwoods were beginning to thin out, and in a moment, she could see the camp, rising as if from nowhere. It was expertly hidden; she had to credit that much. Already smoke and the noise of battle reached her ears. She urged Cahal forward even faster, clutching her stick in one hand.
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