luck must fight over me

Myrika Tears · 08-27-2012, 04:50 AM

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Myrika is by James!

For most of her life, Myrika had worked at being the opposite of strong and large. Her stature -- or perhaps the reaction to her stature in adolescence -- made her want to hunch and lower herself, though she'd almost thoroughly defeated this instinctive cringing since arriving in Inferni. Though she stood taller, the redhead had yet to give up her attempts at daintiness. Clumsy and galumphing lout she was, the woman at least made attempts to make herself less conspicuous of size.

Yet, when the hybrid extended her arm, with the hand carefully cupping the salt, to take Salvia's own and felt its strength, she perceived daintiness was not the best course readily. One needn't read an ancient business tome on the etiquette of handshakes in order to ascertain this. This shake, this motion -- Myrika understood it to be the same as the old ones. This was the same show of power in two canines coming to meet together with fangs out and fur bristling, the show of dominance preceding -- and often precluding -- real violence in the struggle for hierarchy.

Although she did return the grip, the woman was struck for a moment in thought and surprise both, and was perhaps a second or two late in response. Of course. He's accompanied me to the borders before, she said, wary of allowing her cousin private audience with this foreign dignitary. Though Ithiel was obedient to her as he'd been to Ezekiel, she did not trust him not to offend Salvia and Salsola both with only a few words. No words, no long ceremony? she said, smiling, when the shaking was done and the salt spilled to the earth together, unable to be separated. My sort of ritual.

She was thoughtful on reflection of this. There was little enough she knew about their neighbors, other than that they'd fought together. There hadn't been treachery on Salsola's part: on the contrary, they'd worked together and split the spoils evenly. Although -- perhaps this was more due to Ezekiel than anything else? The thought stuck quietly in the back of her mind.

Salvia Eternity · 09-03-2012, 09:58 AM

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Femininity was not something that Salvia excelled at; she had been the (in her mind) only daughter of her parents first litter and raised by two men of indomitable wills. She had neither desired nor attempted to act coy or behave as a softer girl might, and indeed been nothing short of aggressive her whole life. Even now this behavior showed in her broad shoulders and sharp profile, which alone was the hint of coyote blood somewhere within her line.

A small and mysterious smile crossed her face at Myrika’s appraisal. “Talk is cheap,” was all she said. It was action that counted for her, and the wounds left that proved such a thing. The scar on her breast was proof of such deeds, though she saw others who had walked away without signs upon them. Everyone had come home bloodied from that final fight, and it had not mattered then where the combatants had called home. She curled her hand close, rubbing the final bits of salt free, and met Myrika’s turquoise gaze once more. “We will come trade soon,” she promised, and smiled once more.

Myrika Tears · 09-15-2012, 07:12 AM

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-- DONE SON?

Myrika is by Alaine!

The tawny-hued coyote's smile was a half-cocked thing, not completely overtaking her lips. The words were blunt, but she supposed they were true. It wasn't as if she really liked talking, in any case -- it was just sometimes it was hard to shut her mouth when she was nervous. Very, very hard. She was glad Salvia had approached her here on Inferni's territory; Myrika might have made an entirely different impression on the Salsolian had they met on the neutral territories.

The woman nodded. Alright, she said, softly. Thank you. And your pack, she added. Part of Myrika felt Inferni might not have survived the attackers without Salsola's assistance. At the least, they would have had far more casualties. They were lucky to have lost only the number they had, and part of that was no doubt owed to Salsola. She had often churned over in her head what might have happened had the thistle pack gone unattacked; would Inferni have stood alone?

Their relations with the other packs now in her head, Myri stepped back and nodded her good-bye to the other woman, still amazed at their blood relation. Were they only cousins? Salvia seemed entirely wolf, with not a hint of coyote in feature or build. Her eyes, too, were unlike any Lykoi's eyes Myrika had seen -- then again, so were her own. Turquoise blue existed nowhere but for herself. And apparently her mother, though Myrika could not clearly recall this.

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