so put me on a highway and show me a sign.

[Maserati de le Poer]

[html]

-- ----------faster, faster.. the lights are turnin' red Her offer had (at least temporarily) been ignored and Talitha's mild suspicion was matched by her own. Giving a subtle, silent command to Charger, she directed him to retreat a hair. Any time someone refused to acknowledge the boundary regarding the raccoon, she automatically took it as a threat on his life. Maserati wasn't terribly concerned that this girl would attack her companion when there was already enough food to fill both their bellies before them, but she wasn't really one to take unnecessary risks. Unfortunately, it was safer to default to this assumption. She'd been with the raccoon since birth and the thought of him simply becoming someone's under-appreciated lunch was too much to bear. Still, she would do her best to remain optimistic. The doggish girl's demeanour didn't suggest outright malice, although it was clear she wasn't very comfortable. Maz honestly had no idea why this might be--although her guess was it was probably a relatively common reaction to "you know a lot about me, but I don't know much about you." (Personally, she'd be slightly flattered if some stranger found it worthwhile to keep random information about her or her life tucked away in their memory bank! But then, she'd grown up in a much less dangerous environment.) She had hoped that her title alone would suffice, but perhaps not. Ah! she exclaimed. Very good. Oi've been lookin' for 'im. Oi've got a message from one of the former leaders 'n Gabriel's cousin, Anselm. Hopefully the name would register. Oi suppose that makes us cousins of some sort, too, since Anselm's my father she said, her nose crinkled somewhat. She wasn't very good with keeping track of that kind of stuff. So where had she come from? Troika Outpost, she replied smoothly, although she doubted anyone around here might have heard of it. It's south 'a here 'n further inland. The small community was simply that; it wasn't a very traditional pack and the laws weren't so rigid. It basically was headed by Gale, Ross, and Bran--they discussed and made decisions together and nobody was considered higher ranked than the other two. Other regular members got a say in the really big stuff, too, and there were no intermediate ranks. Drifters were welcome to come and go as they pleased and the entire atmosphere was very laid back. Although their membership base primarily consisted of wolves, they saw all kinds: one of their more recent additions was a chipper dingo.

[/html]