Word Count→600+ :: Set mid-morning, February 7th. Wind is still blowing pretty hard, and people who are involved in Cotl's swamp plot should probably not post; this may overlap as far as time window goes. 5+
"Marlowe!"
Silence gave response to the words that fogged up the air, emanating from the cream-furred maw of Talitha Lykoi. Perhaps they had been lost in the winds, dead to the notice of the black-feathered creature she sought to contact. Though the snow had lessened, the wind had not; any sane coyote would have stuffed themselves inside of their home, safe and warm enough to survive the storm. Any sane coyote would stay away from Inferni. Sanity was sparse within the skull-lined borders of the coy-mutt kingdom.
Her russet legs carried her through the snow with difficulty. At that moment, she was glad to be Gabriel's daughter, Gabriel's wolf-tainted daughter. Had she been smaller, she was sure it would be an impossible task to move from her place in the Grimwell Caverns to the marked edges of her home's territory. For a brief moment, she felt sympathy for those who were stuck in the drifts.
"Marlowe!"
Again, nothing came. The raven that had followed her family across the Halcyon mountains was probably safe in a nest somewhere within the Forest of Nod, or buried beneath the snow. Either way, she was sure he wouldn't come to her calls. She had never tried to speak to Marlowe, not like Ezekiel and Gabriel did. It just wasn't worth her while. But now it was. Now she needed Marlowe's guidance.
Her back turned to the wind as she hurried into the cover of the trees; the storm seemed less once safe inside, the trees blocking the heavier winds. Her crimson eyes darted between the trees, searching for the one she'd been calling for. "Marlowe? Marlowe!"
"What."
Her black-rimmed ears twitched to the sound of the bird who spoke in high-speech. His voice came from everywhere and nowhere, from the wind and from the trees. Her eyes couldn't find him, not past the snow that had clogged up the branches. He was a phantom in the storm, presence marked only by the lingering sounds of his voice. She shook her head. "Marlowe, come here." Her voice was terse, arms crossing under her ribs, posture stiff. Games weren't to be played while she had something to do.
He swooped down from the branches of a heavy oak, coal feathers in high contrast to the snow, appearing oh-so put out by the need to appear before the female. She leaned foward, resting her elbows against her thighs. "There you are. Help me check our borders, Marlowe." It wasn't a request, and for a moment, she expected him to simply return to his roost. He didn't. His head cocked to the side, appraising her with a strange eye as if wondering who she was, giving him such orders.
"I help, but not for you."
She shook her head. No, that was fine. She didn't expect loyalty from a creature she saw as a pet to Gabriel. Her eyes remained focused as he took wing, disappearing through the northern trees; if he could make it past the winds, she would be impressed. As it was, she didn't have time to watch him or to follow. She had a destination. She had a place she wanted to be. With sluggish grace, she pressed on through the drifts, searching for the skull-lined borders that marked the land as Inferni. It was covered, almost entirely, and she knew some of the gruesome decor had fallen to the ground, scattered by the winds.
Her hands sought out lost items from the make-shift wall, her mind closing off to the cold temperatures. One thought flocked to her mind: without their skulls, the borders were invisible, and their work on the decoration was for naught. It gave clear proof of what monsters lay behind the bones, but the storm seemed bent on losing that identity. With a gust of winter air, she toppled forward to her knees, spitting out a string of curses that were soon lost to the mid-morning winds.
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