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Myrika is by me!
The tawny-furred hybrid hadn't attended to the borders with the proper frequency as of late, for obvious reasons. The last few days, however, she had been making an effort to leave the comforts of the Great Village and her sister behind. Family or not, there was duty to attend to, no matter how bad it made her feel every and every time she turned her back on the schoolhouse and walked away from it. There was a countdown on the amount of time she had left with Cassie, clocked by the knitting together of flesh torn apart.
It was the howl, quite distant and faint, that drew her away from the northernmost borders (still comfortably close to the village and her sleeping sister) and toward where Willam and the newcomer were gathered. The tawny-furred woman heard only the faint snatches of voices at first, but as she drew nearer, she realized Willam was talking about her and Vesper. She did not pause, for eavesdropping was rude, but instead stepped forward with more noise added to her approach as not to startle either of them.
The hybrid came toward them nonchalantly, nodding a greeting toward the stranger. She smiled at both of them. Hey, she said. Lost coyote looking for a home? She was looking at the dark-furred stranger, but glanced toward Willam now and again. She was glad there were others within the clan willing to undertake the task of greeting newcomers; she certainly would have been slacking the last few weeks if it was a duty left entirely up to her.
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