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Myrika is by me!
There were rituals and traditions of Inferni she did not understand. And yet, the longevity of their existence and the brevity of her own time in leadership made her hesitant -- to say the least -- of changing them. She'd found the clan's laws just and sought only to shift the hierarchical system by which the canines arranged themselves. There was not so much within the coyote clan that she thought needing of her guidance -- it had existed long years before her, after all.
Turquoise eyes watched with interest as the wolf who was her cousin moved for her side, drawing out something shining and small. Her coyote ears perked to Salvia's words, and she nodded her understand of the ritual. It was quaint, in her eyes, but she supposed all of these things served purpose. Perhaps they were art, as was the written word? Surely she of all canines realized the purpose and use of writing and reading, and so she did not even think to scoff at Salvia's words.
Instead, the Aquila nodded solemnly and actually smiled. I like this. She did not wish to presume to speak on its origins, but offered a tale of her own. In the book Ezekiel read, followed perhaps, there was such a thing. Ithiel would be able to quote it to you, but I can't. Look it up sometime, if you're interested, she urged, though that was all the urging she'd do. The hybrid stepped forward to take the small vial and poured a small bit of the salt out onto her hand, looking down at it a moment before her gaze rose to meet Salvia's. She waited patiently, allowing the other woman her lead: this was Salsola's ritual, not Inferni's, and she would not presume to usurp Salvia's right.
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