the moon and i
#1
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Word Count ( 0.713 )

    Private for Vesper near Dapplebrake Creek. Optime form. Dated for today, November 28th, if that's okay?

Restless he was. The sun had already set and the injured man couldn’t find sleep calling forth. Instead, he lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling of the ancient mansion with his blue eyes peeled open. He was directly on his back, one arm crossed over his cream chest and the other at his side. His shoulder wrapped in bandages as was his right hind leg. It had been a week and some odd days since he had been found at the borders of this clan that he seemingly joined. It had been with his will. He wished to repay them… repay them for practically saving his life after it was supposed to have ended the day he met the pale Aemon. He was a pawn thrown by the High King of Vorrakess and he was not supposed to come out of this war plan breathing, but decaying along the ground with numerous other bodies bitten by war. With him, there would have been a pause in battle. They would hold a funeral once they found his mangled body and then, the true war would begin. The allies of the mountainous kingdom would be called and they would battle at the sides of his former home against the roguish Zheynche enemies.


He did not regret this. Merely, he laid here thinking of what he had done wrong and why he was currently alive. What had he to live for now? The repayment of rescue would only last so long. After that, what would happen? The Vorrakess would not be welcomed home as a hero, but rather, if he showed his face it would be taken as a failure of military planning. His mismatched ears drew back and he moved his right arm and stretched forth it to the ceiling. His fingers, one by one, curled out as if he were reaching for something. And all at once, they clenched back together in a fist and his arm flopped back down at his side. His lips were dipped in a frown. Wolfgang was troubled. Truly troubled.


He thought then of the love that could have never been… the affair he had committed. Surely, when the secrets of his relationship with the wedded Crown Princess was unearthed, he would be further discriminated. It was better to stay away from his beloved mountainous kingdom no matter how much she called for him to come home. He had to resist the temptation to walk and allow her to wrap her arms around him. His lips parted and he lipped unvoiced words before he drew himself carefully up and placed his good arm as support to stand. At first, the hybrid remained wobbled. He stepped off his stained cloak to which he had been laying on, shook it rather awkwardly with one arm and then, wrapped it around himself. The thick deer fur would perhaps make the man a bit too warm during his secret exploration tonight, but it would make it so his injuries weren’t as noticeable… that he wasn’t so noticeable as he slipped out of the mouth of the Mansion and into the forest that he now knew was called the Forest of Nod.


The night was quiet besides his unbalanced footfalls. His blue eyes glanced, following each slight rustle or movement out of the corner of his eye. And while he refused to show his emotions now that he was out in public, he was still cautious… still wary of what exactly resided within Inferni. He knew not of any other members but those who had taken care of him, and he assumed they were only a very small portion of the clan. Inhaling a breath rather loudly, he followed the sound of water running, thinking that perhaps after a drink and this walk that he would no longer feel so restless. Sleep was what he oh-so-desired at the moment, even if she, too, shunned him. He licked his lips as the trees slowly thinned into a clearing around the small creek. Upon seeing a large rock, the hybrid took his seat, curling his tail to the side underneath his dark brown cloak. He motioned his hand and pulled off his hood, his long, black hair drooping over his eyes and down his shoulders.

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#2
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Word Count → 503 :: Your post was awesome. Big Grin Hopefully it's okay she guesses that he has treated injuries? If not, message me and I'll change it. :3 Vesper is in lupus form.


Restlessness had overtaken another that same night, though Vesper had not even attempted to find sleep. Then again, there wasn’t any real den for her to go to, only a few scraped-out half-burrows that she nestled into now that she had left the patient’s room in the guest house. She’d yet to lay claim to an official residence in Inferni, despite being here for—was it really a month already? The thought gave her pause as she stepped through the forest, and her blue eyes lowered to the leafy carpet underfoot.

One month since her first shift—one month since her second birthday. She had been attacked days before that and officially joined a week or two later. Somehow, mapping the dates out in her mind made the whole experience more surreal.

But the coywolf was not the romantic type, not one to dwell on silly feelings more than was necessary, no matter how much the revelation really affected her. She shook her light tawny coat out, dislodging a couple of damp fallen leaves, and walked onward again.

Vesper was used to stalking through the woods even after the moon and stars came out; this kind of restlessness plagued her often, and she ran surprisingly well on little sleep. She could see small patches through empty patches in the tree canopy, patches that would only grow larger as the deciduous ones lost their leaves. Seeing the pinpricks of light framed by the branches unnerved her instead of bringing her the usual comfort, so with head lowered and eyes narrowed she trotted on again. It would do her some good to scout out her territory at night, when the atmosphere changed and everything was tinged with an unfamiliar darkness. She already knew the Dampwoods beyond the borders like the back of her paw, and she wanted to transfer this familiarity to her new home. She wanted to be useful to the clan, or at least wanted to prove herself.

The familiar sound of a creek made her smile and change direction. She had followed the course of this particular stream quite a few times from her days hanging around the D’Neville Mansion’s gardens. It led into the few patches of woodland she knew very well, and so it was with a kind of quiet enthusiasm that she loped in its direction.

Something was off, however; she felt the presence of another even before her light blue eyes found the silhouette on the rock. The senses and instincts of a loner made her pause, her full coyote-large ear pricked forward while her torn one remained at half-mast. Though it was hard to discern details in the darkness, he looked like a pale, rusty tawny splattered with dark like the hair that cascaded down around his shoulders. He was unfamiliar, and his scent told of old herbal poultices and an only recent life with the fire clan.

“Another one, huh?” Vesper questioned softly, head tilted. More new blood, and one who might be similar to her.


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#3
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Word Count ( 0.498 )

    Fff, thank you! I enjoyed reading yours as well! And, yes! That's perfectly fine. Big Grin

His hood now down, the inners filled with soft deer fur, made mostly from his first successful hunt with his Kingdom. It had been a Reindeer… a doe. Short with small antlers upon her head and the coat was relatively pale. The Cloth Keeper found a human cloak, to which he sold to the Vorrakess family for a hefty price and then, used the sticky sap of winter trees that grew around the Kingdom’s outskirts to stick the cloak to the skin. It kept him warmer, but now that he was down from the mountains, the temperature was not as chilly. He would grow too hot under the thickness of his cloak and growing winter coat should the winter this year be merciful. His eyes drew to the creek, wondering briefly if he should crawl down from his perch and crouch to take a drink. Or if it was good enough just watching. He swallowing down, feeling content for now. His blue eyes turned from the creek softly bubbling below him and to the clearing of the night sky. The stars were twinkling, shining in all their glory, and yet the large moon held the spotlight. His muzzle was pointed up as if any moment, he would break out into song.


And perhaps, he was tempted to do just that. But he was not so sure. If he howled, his voice may be recognized… recognized by unwanted attention of any Zheynche spies lurking amongst the shadows, ready to swallow him whole and complete the mission they had set out for. He stayed completely still, posed with his uninjured left leg perched with his arm over the knee and his injured one touching the ground. His eyes glanced towards a soft voice questioning from the underbrush, but otherwise, he did not move. His head did not even turn until he parted his lips to speak. “One?” He asked back, not hearing the other words. Though wondered briefly it was not another person he heard, but rather, a voice upon the winds… a voice that did not exist in any one else’s head except his own. They did say that once leaving the Kingdom and not returning quickly shattered sanity. It was his Grandfather’s words.


He made a quiet noise of clearing this throat and turned his head towards the suspected area that one was watching him from. “Are you one of the clan… of Inferni?” His voice was monotone as always with his thick accent rumbling with it. “Do not worry. I am a member, too.” He felt obliged to tell them this information. For it had only been so short of a time that he had joined the ranks, and while it was spoken naturally, Wolfgang couldn’t help but feel that it was strange to be aligned with someone other than the place of his birth. He moved his left leg down and stood rather unevenly, but still square shouldered and with the air of royalty around him.

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#4
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Word Count → 269 :: Holy crap, sorry for the short post. >< I drew a blank.


The male did not startle when he heard her, merely speaking a question that Vesper did not answer. She took the time that she was involuntarily hidden to look him over again, interested by the cloak but not so much as she was interested in how unfamiliar he was. He smelled enough of the clan to prove that he had joined or at least spent a time around the others, but there were other wilder smells underneath the fresh ones—the aroma of land, of heritage. It perplexed the female, who gave her head a shake then finally stepped out from the bushes she’d been standing uncertainly in.

“You’re new,” Vesper remarked needlessly. “And yeah, I’m in the clan.” A rush of awkwardness suddenly overcame her, mostly because she didn’t know what to say next. She let silence exist between them as her blue eyes flicked critically over his posture. “Were you hurt?” she asked, taking a wild guess from the smell of herb and Enkiel on him. Surely she’d reeked of the jackal after the hours he had spent saving her life.

Partially because she was truly thirsty, but partially to exaggerate her lack of concern, the coywolf walked to the bank of her stream and lapped at the cold, fresh water. It rejuvenated her instantly, and with a quick wag of her tail she turned back around to look at him. “My name’s Vesper,” she added. “I’m pretty new here myself—well, been around about a month after the healer took me in.” She flashed a quick smirk not thinking that her freshest scars needed much explanation.


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#5
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Word Count ( 0.530 )

    No worries! I don't mind~ You don't have to worry about post length what-so-ever. Sorry if mine kind of pressure you into making 'em longer. :<

There was pause. He stood there, questioning his sanity until the lupus coywolf appeared through the brush. His eyes looked over her, watching with slight curiosity as she was within their original form. The only ones that used their original form within Vorrakess had been visitors or those newly welcomed. So, it was rather a strange sight to see. He motioned with his hand for her to come closer as she began to speak. His ears hesitantly pointed towards her, keen to listen to each word drawn on without a familiar accent. Though, her scarred body did not go unnoticed either. While the moonlight only proved so much, the many injures marking her made him wonder… why they were gained, how many fights had she battled. His thinking continued and made it so his reply was rather slow. It took a few minutes at best for him to part his lips.


“New,” he paused, as if trying to remember the meaning of the word. “Yes.” With his answer, he gave a firm nod. Wolfgang kept his mouth open, about to ask if the woman before him, too, was new to the Inferni clan. But she continued instead, and asked if he was hurt. His blue eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, staring cautiously at her as if she shouldn’t know this information… and as if he were unwilling to share it. He inhaled a deep breath, smelling the strong scent of herbs on him. It was obvious then. And still, the scent of blood as well. Plus, this woman was not his enemy. She said it herself. She was a member of Inferni, not the Zheynche. She did not carry their accent anyhow.


“Yes,” he repeated. Though, most would go on to explain what the injuries were or how they were gained, he did not. The coywolf only asked him if he were hurt, not to explain what had happened to cause them. It was moments like this that required the patience of these people. Wolfgang was slow in the sense that they would have to ask him each and every detail straight forwardly. And even then, he may misunderstand what they were asking of him. He took a step back when she walked towards the water’s edge, hoping to allow enough space and to keep a distance between them… and despite the ache running up his spine from his injury, he did not take back his seat.


“My name’s Vesper.” The woman introduced herself and then, went on to say that she was new as well. “Wolfgang of Vorrakess,” he spoke his ‘name’ automatically. An ear twitched and his lips dipped in a half frown. “Vorrakess Wolfgang… is what I had meant to say.” Clearing his throat once more, he paused. “It is nice to meet you, Miss Vesper.” He added a small bob of his head afterwards, eying her half-smirk in a rather confused manner. “Pardon… my manners. I am not familiar with the ways… here. May I ask what the expression you are making means?” He moved his left hand slowly up before he flinched – moving his black tipped tail somewhat – and allowed it to go back to his side.

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#6
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Word Count → 595 :: Haha okay. As you can see, my word counts are all over the place.


Vesper came forward when he gestured for her to and took a seat, watching him through slightly lowered eyelids and a hint of thoughtfulness. It took him some time to speak—and he did so ponderously, dropping one word at a time. She reasoned that he was probably unused to company; she personally had a hard time with conversation, especially after a long time without speaking to another being—something she figured would change now that she was in Inferni.

While his wariness in admitting that he was injured did not go unnoticed, the former loner couldn’t judge him for it. She could only keep a neutral front, hoping that he wouldn’t think her too much of a threat. There were darker creatures in the clan, anyway, and none of them would take advantage of a weakened newcomer to her knowledge—not without being provoked, and not without fearing punishment from the Aquila, if they were smart. Only Helotes had kicked her when she was down and taken in by the clan—and that situation had worked itself out quite rapidly. She was capable of learning her place.

After she left to get water, she expected that he would have settled back down, but he was still standing almost uncertainly or warily, or so she guessed. Her ears tilted back slightly, unsure of what to do to make him more comfortable. It wasn’t that she cared for his emotional health so much as she hated awkward situations such as this, and she didn’t really want to leave a bad impression on him if he was going to be around for a long time.

The male introduced himself as Wolfgang of Vorrakess—then amended his statement unexpectedly. He had an unusual accent, both thick and flowing, something that she was not at all used to and that made her uncomfortable. She was not as xenophobic as some, but the distinct cultures and accents of others made her fear for stepping on toes. It was unknown, and unknown was frightening, at least until she was able to pin it down and understand it—which was more than a lot of canines did, including her solitary mother.

“What is Vorrakess?” Vesper asked, hoping that she was right in assuming that Vorrakess was a place or a family. The different presentations of his name threw her off a bit, she who only had one name, and a simple one at that. She fought back a bark of laughter at being called “miss”—that was a title for refined single women or cute young ladies. She was neither, but she also knew that calling him out on it would be rude. She’d only ask him to drop the title if he was insistent in using it.

His question threw her completely off guard, and the smirk morphed into a self-conscious frown as she took a step back. “I—” she began ineloquently, wondering what expression she had even be making that he had to ask about. “Just don’t worry about it,” she told him hastily, not wanting a stranger to dwell on what faces she was making. Expressions were so enigmatic anyway, and often hid or muted emotions the canine did not want to let leak through. Her own smirks came naturally, a modified version of a smile that was not quite as sincere or warm.

“Don’t you—” she started once more, verbally flailing about for a word to latch onto, before she saw him flinch and frowned. “How hurt were you? Should you even be outside right now?”


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#7
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Word Count ( 0.658 )

    That's okay. XD

Another question came into play by the woman. He gave her a brief look of wonderment, of curiosity as if debating whether it was safe to speak much about his birthplace or if he should keep things simple. While usually he would have to shrug things of without comment, Wolfgang wondered to if he could tell her about his home. He loved talking about it, after all, and maybe… just maybe Vesper could be the person he could come to talk to whenever he had worries of the past. He would not tell her the exact location, though. And he would not trust her completely – at least yet – enough to tell the secrets of the royals… or the weaknesses that they held. He inhaled another slow, deep breath. It was a habit of his before he would begin speaking.


“Vorrakess is my birthplace… and my family.” He finally answered, drawling his voice carefully and pronouncing each word as perfectly as he could possibly muster. Though, his thick accent could make some words unclear to those who weren’t used to it. It was husky and deep throated like the human accent of German, but it held a soft, soothing purr alike the French. In the past, his father used to charm ladies just by using his voice and murmuring in their ears. Wolfgang, of course, never learned such technique as ever since his younger age, the new law of abandoning all emotions was put into place. He could no longer smile when happy, or cry when upset… and he was only a boy. And yet, he did not think of it as anything other than normal.


“I lived there until… I came here. Vorrakess is at war with a rogue ‘Kingdom’ called Zheynche. Though the High King says they are only a bunch of childish thieves,” he continued to explain, his lips still parted as if he were going to continue to speak about the home. Instead, he kept quiet and clenched his jaw once more. He did not wish to bore Vesper should she not be interested in hearing more about his – former – Kingdom… even if he, himself, thought of it as interesting and a subject he would talk much about. It was something that got him excited, happy, because it was the only thing he knew of.


His ear flicked and then, pointed forward at her laughter after he called her ‘Miss Vesper’. He didn’t understand why she had laughed, but it was to express happiness, was it not? So, Wolfgang took it as a good thing. With his question, however, her expression that he had questioned was replaced quickly with a frown. That was a look of discomfort, anger or sadness. His blue eyes narrowed. “I–” She began, but did not continue. Instead, she said that he shouldn’t worry about it. “Was it something I should not have asked?” He quickly inquired. “I apologize.”


“I wasn’t… trying to offend you. In Vorrakess, we were taught to abandon all emotions and expressions. I, therefore, do not understand what all of them mean and how I should react.” Swallowing down, he felt uneasy, hoping that he did not cause her discomfort or anger already. But, it also made him realize how different he was compared to those around these parts. Had it been his father or mother who came instead, would they know how to act? He stayed silent after that, standing rather awkwardly there until another question was asked… and this time he did not hesitate in answering.


“We are at war. I offered myself as bait. I’m not supposed to be alive as it was decided I would sacrifice my life for my Kingdom,” he commented. “I’m not sure if I should be out and moving yet, but I feel restless.” Finally, he took a step towards the rock and leaned himself on it. With the motion, the bandage upon his right leg became apparent.

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#8
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Word Count → 465


Vesper could understand caution when it came to speaking of the past—and she would not ask what she was not willing to answer herself. Then again, her closet had very few skeletons, and none of her family was held in especially high regard. There was no one in her past that she wanted to protect; it was the present that she needed to worry about.

She nodded as he explained what Vorrakess was, then continued to listen with sharp curiosity as he went on to explain the war that it had with a kingdom of rogues. Inter-pack conflicts did not seem very uncommon in the wilderness, where luperci intelligence and expansion caused conflict over prey, but Vesper had taken great pains to avoid these battle sites and therefore knew of almost none of them. Therefore, she wasn’t very surprised that she hadn’t heard of Vorrakess or Zheynche before. As such, there was no emotional attachment so much as a keen interest for something that she didn’t know about. It might not help her out, but she did want to know more about her clan mate.

“How did the war begin? Did the Zheynche steal from you?” Her tone was light as it had before, not prompting him to answer if he didn’t want to.

And then Vesper frowned when they came to an awkward misunderstanding, both jumping around topics they were worried bothered the other. It was strange to think that Wolfgang had been raised to be expressionless and emotionless, but since she often smoothed her face over to hide weakness, she could somewhat understand. She forced an easygoing smirk and reassured him, “No, it’s just a question I’m not used to. I wouldn’t worry about it; it isn’t your fault you aren’t familiar with them. Expressions vary wildly from canine to canine, anyway, and sometimes a smile can mean very different things.” She reasoned that he might at least understand body language in order to understand something about what others were thinking; while a culture could understandably do away with emotions to keep secrets and composure, removing silent communication was slightly more difficult.

There was no great pause of breath before his final answer, and Vesper lowered her ears at the thought of him offering himself as bait; her strong self-preservation instincts from her loner origin were at odds with self-sacrifice. She reminded herself that it was his kingdom, his family, and nodded slightly to convey understanding. She nodded once more, smiling, at his last comment. “I am familiar with restlessness.” Her eyes trailed over his bandaged leg, and she sighed. “Perhaps I can help you walk back to wherever you are staying when you feel tired, if that wouldn’t offend you. We can’t have our new members collapsing out in the woods.”


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#9
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Word Count ( 0.759 )

    I'm sorry about the delay! fff. :<

Vesper asked how the war had begun and Wolfgang paused for a moment to merely think about the event. He understood why the High King would call the rogues a bunch of thieves, for they desired more than the Vorrakess were willing to give up. They wished to steal by unfair terms. His lips parted, taking in a slow breath and exhale which became visible before him in cold night air. “I do not know if they actually stole from my Kingdom. But, I do know they wanted more than we could provide. They wished to have our territory, as they had been living within the tops of mountains with little prey. The High King offered them a home… to live with us should they follow our rules and culture. But they refused. We thought that perhaps that would be the end of things, that things would be hostile, but not to the point of war.” A pause. “One morning, a group ambushed us. They smelled of the Zheynche. We lost guards and even children. The High King could not… would not stand for such a thing, so he called war against the group.” He glanced, studying the night sky. It was clear. Clear enough to spot out every single star. The moon lit it up enough that it looked not black, but a dark navy.


“Perhaps Grandfather thought them as thieves because their greedy nature… and they had stolen lives from us that were not ready.” His eyes drew back to the coywolf, curious to what she might be thinking about the war. Or rather, what her ways were. What she thought was far and not. “While we do not believe things we cannot see, we… believe that young men and women, boys and girls, innocent and pure, or elderly that have not hold a sword to the throat of another in years, are not meant to die. It was not a battle, but a massacre that the Zheynche caused.” Wolfgang sometimes questioned why they were enemies, or what exactly had caused this madness to blind the Zheynche enough to slaughter children and unarmed men and women. To him, there was no sane reason for it. They had been starved. Maybe starved enough to believe the words of their twisted leader that lead them to commit deeds that would not be forgiven by his Kingdom. He pitied them. Not because he necessarily cared for them, but pitied them as if he were superior to the group, as if they knew no better... and that they were just barbarians.


“Oh,” he breathed, slightly relieved – though he did not express it – as she went on to explain that emotions differ from canine to canine, that a smile could mean very different things. “Thank you,” he paused, nodding his head as if meaning the thanks he gave to the woman. “Yet… what if I wish to understand someone? How… How can I understand them?” He hadn’t thought that it may be awkward for Vesper to answer him, for he did not know that… there were beings that did not think about reading emotions. They could glance upon another’s face and automatically tell if they are happy, depressed or enraged. For him, they were movements he couldn’t understand, movements and faces that he had long forgotten. And, it hadn’t just been his grandfather’s orders. He hid, hid the feelings he shared because he was ultimately scared, scared to be close to another person. For the one time he had held someone close to his heart, it had shattered before it had even begun.


She nodded after his words, a smile curled on her lips and then, she spoke that she was familiar with restlessness. The offer had first taken the man aback. He had not gained such a thing similar in his home, but it had been alike to Aemon, the pale coyote that he had first meet at the borders. He tested his facial muscles and forced what he thought may look like a smile, to express his gratitude but also, to try and change himself into the ways around these parts. It perhaps, only looked like a forced smile, one toothy and out of place, and surely, it ended in a blink of the eye. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Thank you. I may take your offer later. But, before that, may I ask what you know of Inferni? I… was not told what the customs are here, so any bit helps even if we are both new.”

manip && background stock by clockwork-theory. coyote stock by salsolastock on dA.

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Word Count → 800+ :: Ack! I hadn't seen that you'd replied. D: Have this long-ass post. xD


The tale of the Zheynche and Vorrakess swirled in a cloud of pale vapor as Wolfgang began his explanation. Such pack conflicts, again, were something that Vesper had heard vaguely of but had no personal connection to, and so she could feel forced sympathy at best for her new comrade. Behind her attentive expression, however, thoughts whirled as she tried to figure how she felt about the story presented to her. The offering from the Vorrakess was generous, an extension of food and shelter to a group that needed the help. However, being caged to the ideals of another might be seen as an attack on Zheynche freedom—a possibility, though Ves obviously didn’t know these groups as well as the Vorrakess-born hybrid did. She could see the motives of both sides, standing here as an objective stranger to the conflict.

His pale eyes fell upon her, and the coywolf met them briefly. “A vulture steals because it’s the only way he can eat,” she mumbled vaguely, and as he described the massacre, she nodded, frowning. “But you were right to want to protect your innocent.” Oliver had been just a boy. Oliver had not been innocent. Oliver, even now, crept unwelcome into her thoughts. She shook her head fiercely to jar the memories and pretended that her tongue did not suddenly taste metallic. “I’m sorry they died,” she added, though the genuine words sounded false to her ears. “Do you… Do you think the war is still going on?”

She cursed herself silently for that question. Her musings would only alarm him and bring his mind back to the battle his family fought, the battle his family sent him off to die for. She wasn’t sure how permanent a member he might be of the coyote clan, but causing him to panic about his old life would definitely shorten that term. It was hard having ties to different lands.

Her awkward explanation seemed to suffice for the rusty-cream male. His next question was one slightly easier to answer, though Vesper didn’t know if he would understand. “You should be able to grasp the basics simply by wandering around Nova Scotia and Inferni. As for whether you want to understand someone specifically…you’ll have to just get to know them.” She smirked faintly then corrected herself with a shake of her head. “Like—I smirk a lot. Never really been able to really smile at most people, dunno why. Some canines are friendly enough that you can outright ask them what their face is doing and they might answer, but others you’ll just have to wait and watch, try to associate their expressions and words and actions.” It was chaotic one she stopped to think about it, really—but she’d been born seeing the very rare and precious smiles of her mother and the excited grins of her sister and that dripping grimacing smirk of her father during their one encounter.

“You’ll get used to it,” Vesper added, shrugging. “It takes time, but all of this will become second nature to you.”

She was amused by his abrupt smile but made no comment on it. This new question was one that should be easier to answer—though she had to find out the customs of Inferni through listening and watching more than anything else, as new as she was in the clan.

“Inferni is predominately coyote,” Vesper began. “They accept hybrids like you and I so long as our coyote blood is strong enough. When it comes to non-coyotes—wolves especially—some feel hatred or disgust, while others, like me, don’t really mind either way.”

That wasn’t to say she resented the policies; she placed more worth on the individual rather than the breed, but she knew that some coyotes in these parts had been hurt terribly by their wolf cousins. Had she grown up differently, she might have turned out like them—born of rape by a wolf father, member of a coyote band, knocked around by the larger canines as a youth. No one could choose their heritage, but no one could choose the bad events that happened to them, either.

“There are a lot of warriors here—and that is one of the rank tiers, the combat-based. There is also a miscellaneous one, for skills such as gardening and writing.” Hell, she hoped she was getting this right. “And a tier for scouts—the one that I hope to pursue.” A hint of pride—always pride, forever pride—lined her words, and her tail thrummed once on the ground. Vigilant as she was, she knew she would have no problem adapting to patrols for the pack.


“And all of these skills are mostly for the protection of Inferni. I know that many outsiders hold a bad view of us, sometimes for good reason, but most of what they say are scary stories. Not that the coyotes go out of their way to be very cuddly.” The tawny coywolf snorted.


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