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Myrika is by me!
The redhead shook her head firmly. There was no interrupting a leader -- her purpose was to serve the clan, and in order to do that, she needed to serve its members. Ezekiel had never lorded over them, and Myrika did not think his father or Kaena had ever done so, either. Neither would she -- lording was for leaders who did not care for their subjects, and Myrika believed the definition of a good leader was one who cared for those within their borders. The earthen-hued woman's nervousness was apparent to Myrika, and the hybrid tried to offer a reassuring smile, though she knew just how paralyzing anxiety could be. It was strange to her, though, to see it from the other side: how often had she looked just as Willam did now?
There seemed to be more certainty in her profession, however: the silver-tinted woman seemed ready to swear her everything to Inferni, which was more than a good sign. Myri's dark-splotched tail gave a few slow wags of approval, and she listened with cupped ears as the coyote continued. Then you'll make a good Infernian, Myrika said. You can do whatever suits you -- if you have a particular talent, you can do that, but if not, you can learn something new, too. Inferni has lots of ways to make yourself useful -- you can take care of horses, if you want. Wild or domestic. You can fix up the mansion, which needs it badly. You could keep after the plants, either wild ones to harvest or in the greenhouse. She rattled off just a few of the potential things Willam could take as her responsibility, and shrugged, smiling. I don't need to tell you when to eat or sleep or rise -- you can do whatever suits you best. If you need to stick to a schedule, stick to one -- but of your own choosing. Myrika was apprehensive about dictating such precise stipulations over another creature's life -- she would not have appreciated such rulings over herself, though it did not occur to the redhead that perhaps one used to structure and strictness might be more comfortable with such dictating.
The redhead's ears pricked up as she listened to the hybrid describe the troubles of another pack. She knew New Dawn, and had, in fact, encountered their leader. It had been quite a long time ago, though Myrika could still taste the sense of fear at the back of her mouth from their early interaction. She had been rather frightened, though it had all turned out alright in the end. The words troubled her, and she frowned, drawing her ears back and half-mast. Thank you for telling me, she said, straightaway when Willam had finished. What kind of monster is this? she asked, skeptical of the word. Monsters meant unreal things, lurking spiked and scaled and horned things -- in short, unreal things. She did not believe in monsters, but Myrika was not so quick to doubt a potential threat and discard it on basis of its probable superstition. There's no alliance between New Dawn and Inferni, and they're said to dislike coyotes -- but they're not troublemakers, either. Still, it's good to know these things, if it spills over to us, she said.
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