legacy
#1
[html]
The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 543

The dynamic of horses was something that Ezekiel had studied since their numbers began increasing in exponential size. His experience was not based on anamnesis, for Inferni had never boasted domesticated livestock during his father’s day. Inferni had shifted, though, since his ascension and the addition of horses brought in since the cousins who had joined and brought these outsider ways within to their fold. Gabriel would not have allowed such a thing, but Ezekiel had expanded their claim and he knew the use of such beasts would be great.

His horse, despite his bloodline, was a feisty thing with a temper as brash as the dark bird that scouted ahead. Ibsen did not often journey with the coyote, for his talents were best suited when he was not identified as a pet (and Ezekiel did not think of him as such, truly). Yet for foreign soil, he preferred having a pair of eyes in the sky.

The red horse snorted loudly as Zeke mounted, an easy motion that he was well versed in. Once on the back of the massive animal, his hips settled in such a way that made his ride comfortable. With his bag on his side and his quiver and bow on his back, Ezekiel prepared for the long ride ahead. A thick animal pelt was under his groin, easing the soreness that would surely come from traveling towards the furthest expansions of the eastern land. A rope was loosely looped around his arm, and from it trailed the dark mare. Kaena had been very clear with her intention, and Ezekiel doubted she would put up with riding behind someone.

So with the bird heading towards the mansion, Ezekiel traveled at an easy trot. He did not know how long this excursion would last, but he doubted with Vesper (whom he considered loyal to him) at her side Halo would try much. Especially with the ever-watchful eyes of the clan’s healer at her back, or her own children (and Symera, and even Helotes) keeping her busy. Thus content to take the time for himself, he did not brood on the what-if and instead thought only of recalling the pass his father had brought them through on the night of the fire. While a child, he could yet recall the landmarks of the place and the overpass they had spent a long night in. There had been many people then, many who had been his family, but he did not recall them. Only his father, mother, and sister had mattered on that night. It would be easier, though, to go through on horses than to climb a mountain with them—especially when his stallion and mare were massive, cold-blooded animals not suited for such delicate work.

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#2
[html]

(488)



Myrika is by Bobbi!

And that's where the skull-hanging tradition comes from, the scarred woman said, stamping her foot against the porch for emphasis. Her one golden eye glittered in her face as she looked upon Myrika, who listened with interest. She scratched notes into a piece of rawhide scratch paper; later, she would rinse the light coal-based ink from the parchment so she could write upon it again and again. Such was the usefulness of thick, durable paper. It could be reused in such a manner without wastefulness. For her part, the redhead nodded earnestly, scribbling onto the paper as quick as her hand would allow. It was messy writing, and Myrika doubted anyone but she herself would be able to read it, but it worked.

So it was more Gabriel's idea than yours, she mused, and the old woman nodded. It just happened when I lead Inferni as Aquila, so I think everyone just assumes it was me. No -- that was brought back from Scintilla with Gabriel, Kaena said, rather plainly. There was no harshness to her correction, but perhaps a bit of begrudging -- maybe Kaena liked being accredited with the gruesome bone practice. The one-eyed hybrid looked to the edge of the gardens, cocking her head so the good ear pricked up more than her bad ear. Horse? she asked. Myrika's attention had been caught on that word Kaena used -- Scintilla. She had heard it before, numerous times now. Ithiel was from this place, and Myrika would have asked the old woman if she had encountered Ithiel yet, but the sounds of an approaching horse caught her attention, too.

With that, a raven swooped in to land on the porch rail, beady brown eyes regarding both of them with intelligence Myrika found eerie. Eira was smart for a horse, but her intelligence did not touch Ibsen's. The bird gave a raucous cry, fluffing its feathers and swooping down onto the porch itself, and Myrika grimaced, turning back to the approaching hoofbeats. Her oversized ears twitched, but she could not discern the horse from its gait. She could guess it was Ezekiel, though -- if the raven came before the man rather than of his own accord, that is.

The old hybrid stood, and a moment later, the tawny coyote did, as well, both of them looking toward the big chestnut stallion with Ezekiel on his back, and the darker mare trailing behind. Excitement tingled in Myrika at the sight of the spare horse and Ezekiel's obvious provisions, but she kept her face straight, and instead smiled warmly toward her Aquila. Before she could greet him, their grandmother barked her own hello. Should have guessed it was you, with that Marlowe-son crying your coming, the old woman said, a fierce grin twisting her scarred features, clear evidence of the joke at hand. Kaena was far more fond of the birds than Myrika.

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#3
[html]
The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 311

The grizzled woman on the porch was a relic; she belonged to Inferni as much as their blood belonged to her. Ezekiel could see the heredity within the red streak along so many faces, his own included. Between all of her offspring, and their children, some traits were obvious. It was through this observation that he had begun to learn of true heredity—he had known of the spiritual part of the word, well aware of what sort of demons passed through from one generation to another. Ghosts. They were made up of ghosts, all of them, and Kaena alone remained as a testament to prove such a thing was true.

Ibsen found great amusement in mocking Ezekiel, even if the golden hybrid was the only one who understood him. His bellowing caw pronounced a formal title for the Aquila, though it was taken in stride—after all, so few spoke his tongue that it did not bother the scarred man’s pride. A well-tempered snort escaped him as he neared and saw the two women he had come looking for.

The leader dismounted out of respect for their eldest member and smiled at her joke. It was, for once, an honest thing. “He might as well be a majordomo at this rate, eh?” Turning to his horse, Ezekiel made a low whinnying sound and gestured slightly with one hand. It was a stay command, and once Viggo was used to. “Are you two ready? We can get through the mountain before dark. I’ve gathered a few things to keep us warm…I hope you don’t mind riding with them,” he added with a glance to Kaena. It was a polite way to express his concern; while her age certainly restricted her in many ways and made her susceptible to the cold, he would not be so uncouth as to announce this publicly.

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#4
[html]

(362)



Myrika is by Bobbi!

The russet woman laughed at the man's words, but the scarred woman merely gave him a perplexed look, apparently not knowing what the word meant. Myrika was too used to the crusty ancient's ways to bother supplying the definition of the word "majordomo" for her; in all likelihood, it would earn her only a scowl, and if she was particularly unlucky, a smack to the arm.

Again, Myrika moved to answer her Aquila's inquiry, and again, her grandmother cut in. Of course. Myrika has a few bags, and I have one, the old woman said, grumpily. She hadn't wanted to bring anything, but Myrika had firmly insisted upon ample provisions. For her part, the russet woman brought enough salted meat to last them several days. In all likelihood, it would be too much, but Myrika was not prepared to take that chance when the old woman was with them. Inferni could afford to lose her; it could not afford to lose Ezekiel or Kaena.

Myrika smiled again at Ezekiel, and ducked inside the house to retrieve their things. She pulled them put and settled them next to Kaena, murmuring something about going to nab Eira from the rear of the mansion before she disappeared again through the doorway. I don't mind riding. Hurts my ass after a while, but what doesn't hurt my ass these days? Sitting, standing, riding a horse, sitting on my head, the old woman said, giving a casual shrug. Arthritis was a daily part of Kaena's life these days, it seemed. It was a wonder she could move at all with her myriad of scars criss-crossing her face.

A moment later, the blue roan loped around the corner of the mansion, Myrika on her back. Eira seemed pleased, and tossed her head this way and that as the russet Consul pulled her reins to signal a stop and dismounted quickly. The mare sidled up to Viggo, ignoring the other mare completely, and nickered at him softly. Myrika moved to grab their things and get them settled onto Eira's back without a word of prompt from either of her elders.

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#5
[html]
The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 440

There was no doubt that between them, the power belonged to the golden coyote and his grizzled grandmother. Myrika was yet unsure of herself, something that the Aquila found displeasing. She was slowly changing though, and as he had hoped, she was herself yet unaware of such a thing. This was better, of course, for manipulation was part of his way of life these days. It had failed with Sage, but Sage was already ruined by her father. Spoiled and filled of childish ideas she had never truly found her place within this clan. Through words alone, Myrika had shown herself not only capable of changing but of being willing to have herself molded. This made her perfectly malleable for his purposes—after all, had she not sought out the clan’s history on her own? Seeds had been planted not only by him, but by a bloodline she wore on her face and under a name that belonged to an aunt Ezekiel imagined dead.

The blonde man nodded at Kaena’s concerns, and motioned to the thick mare. “I ride Viggo with a pelt when it’s a long one; there’s a few on her I can lay out for you. Do you want to take anything before we go? I’m sure Enkiel wouldn’t mind giving us some herbs for the trip. As far as I remember, it’s a long way to Hell’s Coast.” His memory was not entirely accurate of course, given the fact he had been very very small during the time in which Inferni had first traveled across the mountain. There had been fire and smoke and his world was strange then, for a child who had not even crossed the entirety of the shore.

“Oh I’ll be fine. I have my own medicine. You just get me up on that horse of yours so we can leave,” the old woman said, shuffling down the steps. Ezekiel took the time to spread out a thick reindeer pelt, fur side up, and looped a rear-riding saddlebag over this to help hold it down.

“Let me help you up. She’s a big girl, but Oblek is the easiest horse to ride. If we travel quickly her pace is smooth, and she’s never given me any problems.” The old woman grunted at this, but she nodded and joined the golden hybrid next to his dark horse. Ezekiel was surprised by her weight; she was featherlight to him and easily hoisted up onto the horse with ease. “Just use your legs to hold on, and grab her mane otherwise. She’ll be tied to Viggo, so you won’t need to direct her or anything.”

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#6
[html]

(317)



Myrika is by Bobbi!

The rust-hued woman remounted Eira after attaching her things to the horse, peering anxiously at Ezekiel as he readied Kaena into the saddle. Myrika knew what medicine her grandmother spoke of, and she had smoked it once with the old woman, finding it relaxing but not mind-blowing as some seemed to claim. Then again, the straw-colored woman did not have as many years' worth of aches and pains to contend with. Perhaps when she was as old as Kaena, she would better understand the magic of such novations where it came to medicine.

Eira shifted beneath Myrika, apparently feeding on the excitement in the trio. Viggo seemed unusually calm, but perhaps this was due to the presence of his mares. Myri did not expect trouble between Eira and Oblek, but one could never be too careful. She would be careful to keep the big stallion between the two female horses. The rust-colored woman twisted to check her provisions a final time, making sure they were secured to the saddle and tied down so they did not smack annoyingly against the blue roan's sides.

I'm all set, she announced to no one in particular, eager to get moving. She'd seen the lands over the mountains once before, but she was eager to head back. Perhaps they'd find a place to cross the river this time. She was especially excited to see the pass through which Inferni had escaped the wildfire. These places were history to Myrika, and as historian, she was basically obligated to see them. Beyond her obligation, however, she found such history fascinating to begin with. There was a reason she was a bookworm, after all -- the old places and old ways spoke to her, though she did not adhere to them rigidly. It was important to learn of the past and the mistakes of their predecessors, however.

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#7
[html]
The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 371

Marijuana was something that Ezekiel himself partook in, though his habit had shifted dramatically from when he was a teenager. Those days he had spent his hours smoked up and dreaming of large, wonderful things. It had all turned around when he had lost his first terrible fight, and while he had tried using the drug since then, it soured in his mouth or made him sleep. Sometimes he used this in favor of opium, afraid of the drug’s addictive tendencies, but these days sleep came more easily. The cold helped with this—after a long patrol it was wonderful to curl up under a mass of hides and furs and drift into sleep from exhaustion alone.

The roan girl and her horse came to his side, and Ezekiel was glad that his own mount was not behaving out of order. Oblek nickered, hardly aware of the weight on her, and Ezekiel smiled at his cousin. “With any luck, we’ll only be gone a few days.” Hopefully, Halo would not lead Inferni to ruin during such a period. This he doubted, but who could be sure with the Dragon of the Waste left alone?

With a nudge, he urged Viggo on. The stallion’s pace was easy, a trot that was smooth because of his large girth. Though the three-step pace was bouncy, he was used to such a thing and moved in time with it now. Subconsciously, the Aquila directed his horse with his muscles, applying pressure to the area he wished to go, leaning forward or back in order to speed or slow.

Viggo, despite his size, was agile enough to avoid fallen logs and err towards the easier routes. It did not take them all that long to cross the border, passing skulls well-worn by time. The forest still smelled of coyote, but their actual claim ended a half-mile from the mansion. Ezekiel slowed only once to allow Ibsen to catch up, swooping through the foliage and coming to settle on the back of the broad chestnut. Once the land opened up his true job would be easier. “How far did you two follow the river?” Ezekiel asked, hoping to find a gap through use of the raven’s sight.

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#8
[html]


(641)

The roan mare seemed to sense the excitement, though she was well-behaved enough to only toss her head a few times. Myrika patted her on the neck, and the horse gave a few more excited motions, leaning over to nudge at Viggo's shoulder. The horse beneath Kaena seemed entirely indifferent to either of the other two equines, and merely stared forward, waiting for the rope to bring her along. Myrika was glad for this; she knew Kaena was not at all comfortable while ahorse, and if they encountered any sort of trouble, the old woman would require a steadier mount than Viggo or Eira could provide. For her part, Myri was comfortable with Eira now, to the point that the woman did not fear being thrown off. Perhaps she was overconfident in her abilities, but long hours on horseback had passed since the storm that had separated her from her family, too. She knew her own abilities better, and she knew her horse better.

The horses moved in a messy line, and Myrika found herself just behind Ezekiel, with Kaena's horse trailing behind her. She watched the raven land on Viggo's back, and quirked half a smile at the creature. Though she was not particularly fond of birds, she understood the raven's intelligence far exceeded that of any horse, and therefore a bit more finesse was due when when dealing with him. Ibsen merely stared back at her with his beady eyes, tilting his head comically as he did so. Though he opened his dark beak, no sound came out, and it became apparent the motion was a yawn. Myri stifled a laugh at this; it hadn't occurred to her that birds might yawn as Luperci did.

Ezekiel's question drew her attention, and the russet-hued woman was quick to answer this time, intending to beat her grandmother to the punch. It was easy for the old woman to overshadow meek Myrika. It was easy for Kaena to overshadow almost anyone, Myri figured, whether the old woman meant it or not. Hardly at all, the rusty woman said, and she thought she heard the click of teeth as the old woman's jaws snapped shut. Smiling to herself, Myri continued. We turned around almost immediately. I wasn't comfortable all the way out there, just the two of us, the woman explained. It was primarily Kaena the rust-hued Consul worried about.

The russet coyote had become fond of her grandmother, though she assumed her relationship with Kaena was a far cry from the one existing between most grandparents and grandchildren. The old woman spoke at length of sex and violence, seemingly with no care that it was her own daughter's daughter she spoke to. They had even partaken of drugs together, which Myri did not think was a particularly grandmotherly activity. Nevertheless, the scarred old thing had endeared herself to Myrika, and the russet-hued woman felt the need to protect the old woman, perhaps as strongly as the grandchildren who had grown up around her.

The terrain became rockier, and the forest began to thin as they reached higher elevations. Ezekiel, Myri began, hesitating a moment. The no-man's-land between Anathema and Ichika's borders is thin. She did not know if Ezekiel had traveled north before. It seemed to her, he stuck around Inferni pretty well, but she thought it would be better to make him aware of such impediments and potential dangers than leave them unspoken. In any case, she did not think sharing such knowledge was gasconading her prowess regarding scouting. The pack borders were clear as if they'd been outlined in neon glow paint. Myrika simply thought it prudent to warn Ezekiel before the trio was on top of the Anathema and Ichika borders.



Myrika is by Nat!

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#9
[html]
The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 563

The rope connecting to Kaena’s horse was not long enough for their new line, and Ezekiel had to hand this off to Myrika. With the saddle, she could tie this off as opposed to him holding it. Viggo rode easy enough for him to keep his hands free in the event of any incident; his bow and arrows rested comfortably against his back, able to be drawn quickly if they were needed. He would hunt when they reached the land over the mountain; while there were likely not enough animals to feed a whole pack, three coyotes could survive a night.

With the admittance of their lack of exploration, his idea of finding an area to cross was now more reasonable. There had to be a place now, especially with the cold weather in. While snow might have swollen the banks some, if there was anywhere the horses could cross they would find it. Viggo alone was strong enough to break through ice, but if the water was at all deep Ezekiel would not chance it. The horse was simply too heavy to swim without issues, and he feared such a thing might cost the stallion his life. So, Ibsen had come; he was smart enough to understand what Ezekiel was after and scout several areas instead of just finding one.

The voice of his Consul rang out again as they neared the mountain, and his ears turned back. “When we ran from the fire, my father brought us through a pass near here. I think it remains unclaimed, still. There’s enough for us to get through.” In fact, as they closed the distance between the Waste and Halycon Mountain, the scent of both packs carried along the breeze. Ezekiel wondered how often the wolves had to deal with loners crossing their borders (or even pack wolves) and thought it terribly foolish for Ichika to have settled so close to Anathema. They would only find trouble in such an arraignment.

After another twenty minutes, the mountain loomed ahead. Ezekiel dismounted and left the women, trailing along the low parts of this pass before vanishing into the snow-brushed rock. When he re-emerged, he was grinning ear to ear. “It’s snowy, but it’s there. The horses should be able to fit—it’ll be easier than this one climbing the mountain,” he added with a snort, and while Viggo did not fully understand all of the high-speech, he gained enough of the tone to give the Aquila a good shove with his big nose. Ibsen cawed loudly and stamped his talons against the horses rump, earning another whinny from the stallion before Ezekiel spoke to the pair of them in various dialects and remounted the red horse.

With a shake of the head, Ezekiel urged the stallion forward. While gingerly taking the slope up into the rocky face, Ezekiel had rightly judged the width and they entered it without issue. The pass was very quiet, too low for much more than wind to enter it, and the lack of plant life suggested this cut was hardly well-traveled. They did not speak much while they traveled—all coyotes were well aware of the wolf-claimed lands surrounding them and knew how vulnerable a low position such as this one was. After another lengthy half-hour, the land began to slide downward and with it, the pass widened and grew.

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#10
[html]

(754)
Turning conversation toward Inferni history so this counts for my second co-rank thread, if you don't mind? >_> There are few others Myri can glean Inferni history from~ Also, controlling kae on your part, fine!



Myrika is by Bobbi!

Although Myrika could not say why, she also thought settling quite so close to one another a foolish decision. She was glad long miles separated Inferni from its closest neighbors, and the rust-hued coyote preferred to avoid most of these neighbors, in any case. She knew nothing of their westerly neighbors and only knew of Ichika what she'd seen on her visit. Anathema was a mystery to her beyond its name, and the coyote was gladdened immensely by her Aquila's words.

Stupid wolves, Kaena grumbled, declaring this with surprising hostility, at least to Myrika. She did not understand her grandmother's apparent hatred for wolf-kind; after all, hadn't the scarred woman bore children to a wolf -- twice, in fact? Ezekiel, coyote as he was, was descended of this union, and Myrika could see the hint of wolfishness in her cousin, as much as it shone in her own ungainly size and largeness. Myrika thought her size was especially apparent when compared to more coyote-blooded individuals of her lineage, and she instinctively hunkered in the saddle, though the Consul was unaware she did such a thing. All of them fell silent following this comment, and shortly thereafter, Ezekiel left Kaena and Myrika by their lonesome. The women spoke in low voices while the Aquila was away -- Kaena's a raspy whisper, Myrika's a lighter and more prettily toned murmur.

I hope we can cross the river this time. I want to see Inferni's old coast, our old beach, the elder, scarred canine said, the sable tip of her tail wavering in excitement at the thought. Everything about the ancient canine seemed animated in that moment, and Myrika thought the years had slid from her face rather abruptly. For her part, the turquoise-eyed woman smiled broadly and nodded, hopeful to see such a thing herself. It was good for the historian to see such things, the rusty-hued woman thought.

I think we will, Myrika said, pointing to the bird. He has good eyes. With the compliment, Ibsen cocked his head and would have grinned, had he the lips to do so. Myrika saw no harm in giving the raven a little added encouragement with praise. Whether or not such a tactic proved effective was to be seen, of course. Ezekiel returned rather promptly and spoke, and Myrika nodded, making no reply. Kaena did so for her, barking a sharp laugh as she did so. Let's move it, then, the old woman said, her animation and vigor still apparent.

The rusty-hued woman said nothing as they passed close to the wolves' land, and her companions were content to do the same. The horses made no noises, and even the wind seemed to have died -- it was as if this world was cut off from the rest of it, sound and sight alike. The sharp rise of land on either side of them caught Myrika's attention, and she twisted her head this way and that, looking sometimes to the ridges of rocky earth. Sometimes her gaze lifted to the faintly overcast sky, patches of gray-blue showing between the clouds. Though the clouds threatened, Myrika and Ezekiel both seemed confident the rain and snow would not come.

The rest of the world again became apparent as the pass widened, and Myrika looked forward eagerly. She wanted to run their horses more than anything, but she doubted Kaena could sustain such a pace in the saddle, and she was not foolish enough to risk the old woman over such childish whims. Instead, she gave Eira a little leeway, allowing the roan to pull beside Viggo as soon as there was room. Eira greeted the stallion with a nudge of her nose and a quiet neighing noise. Come spring, Eira would foal what was likely Viggo's get -- the mare's affection seemed to confirm this notion to Myrika, and she thought happily of the young foals and fillies that would occupy her days. Spring's arrival could not come soon enough.

Would you speak of the old Inferni? she asked. Both of you, the russet woman added, turning her head back toward Kaena. Soon enough, they could ride side by side again, and conversation would become easier. I want to know it all, the woman said, almost shyly. Knowledge was a passionate pursuit of the rust-tinged woman, and this particular subject interested her greatly. It did, after all, concern part of her own heritage, too.

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#11
[html]


(300) Works for meeeee.



The journey was pleasant with the two women, and Ezekiel was equally pleased that their mounts did not seek to cause trouble. Despite his breed, Viggo was a hot-headed horse that tended to throw his weight around other males. When the spring came he was certain the herd dynamic would be interesting; but he was not entirely versed in the ways of horses and applied only what he knew as far as pack behavior to them. The fact he understood their language made such things easier, but he was still a stranger dealing with a culture not his own.

He therefore relied on Myrika, who as far as he was concerned, understood more about the ways of these animals than anyone else within the clan. The silvery coyote, Kastra, seemed to know her way around horses as well—perhaps this spring they could all learn more from each other. Ezekiel knew well enough how to break a beast, but when it came to anything beyond that, he was learning as he went.

The red-head spoke and Ezekiel flicked his ears back, sparing a glance to Kaena. He had not been present for much of what he imagined she sought, but the older woman nodded as if to let him speak first. Ezekiel shifted his weight on Viggo’s back and looked forward. “I didn’t spend a lot of time here,” he admitted. “But I can tell you what my father told me, if you want. How much do you know?” Certainly, some things needed to be covered; Dahlia’s attack and the beginning of that first war, and the madness that came soon after. Ezekiel could not speak of such things personally, but he had listened to the stories of his father and remembered them all as he held onto all things.


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#12
[html]


(435)

The ruddy coyote would have been surprised with Ezekiel's estimation of her as the best in equestrian pursuits. Myrika always seemed to assume the rest of the world was better than her, and there was no one good thing she excelled at so far as to be the best in that particular arena. She was woefully under-confident in her own abilities, and she did not see the true usefulness of her now-varied knowledge. As Myrika saw it, most in Inferni owned some form of livestock. It had existed within the clan prior to her, and therefore, someone or several someones of Inferni must have more extensive knowledge than she.

The coyote patted patted Eira's neck, and the horse kept her steady pace, contented with the presence of both the gravid mare and the big stallion. Myrika was well-versed enough in reading her own horse to recognize the kinship Eira felt for Viggo, though she could not quite discern how the chestnut horse felt about her blue roan. Myri knew no low speech, and she was only familiar with her own mount due to the longevity of their partnership, truth be told. She thought low speech a lovely skill to acquire, but the auburn-haired woman hadn't the faintest clue about learning such a skill. She had already asked quite a lot of Ezekiel, and though she thought he knew this language, she daren't ask.

Myrika considered the question, glancing back to Kaena. The old woman did not see or did not deem it necessary to make a reply, for she made no move other than those typically made while ahorse. Anything? Everything, she said, nudging Eira to ride directly alongside Viggo. so she might better converse with Ezekiel. The path had widened to allow this, though Oblak still needed to trail behind them, for it had not yet widened to allow the passage of three large horses. I'm supposed to be the historian, twice over -- I should know it all, the rust-haired woman added. I know what Kaena has told me, but I don't know who else to talk to. Halo? Enkiel? I... everyone else seems to have my longevity in Inferni, if that, she said. Or maybe I just don't know everyone as I should. I'm all alone in the schoolhouse, and it's out of the way -- but, someone needs to tend the sheep, too. And -- fuck, I'm rambling on, sorry, she said, her head drooping so the thick waves of her reddish hair very nearly covered her eyes and muzzle.



Myrika is by Alaine!

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[/html]
#13
[html]


(946)ogawd sosu I will kill you.



The motion of the horse under him was one that his legs and body read the movement of the compact and heavily muscled animal below him. There was no doubt in him that the horse would serve his duty well one day; he had watched the stallion chase off a lone horse that had come too close to the clan’s territory while he was free roaming. Observations of the horses had shown him they quickly recognized the natural border formed by the canine’s scents; within them was food and shelter. Spring too would give the horses reason to be alert and linger closer to their home—Eira was with foal, Merab now presently so, and he was almost convinced that Oblak was as well. He considered approaching his half-brother about the big mare. By spring, he would sort things out. Horses were not his true calling, though Ezekiel tried to do what he could without education.

Ibsen shifted on the back of the chestnut horse, and the Aquila studied his cousin carefully. She was very tall, even seated. Her face was familiar but not incredibly so—all Lykoi looked alike—and she was sharp and edged like a true coyote. If not for her unusual and incredible height she might have resembled such a thing. Ezekiel himself showed hints of the heritage given to him from Gabriel; his face was pointed and sharp but his body compact and broad like a dog. His own height was diminutive compared to the majority of his family and certainly any wolf, but his mettle made up for it. Ezekiel had never run from a fight, even though it had once nearly cost him his life. This foolish bravery was something that his father had sworn would kill him.

The golden coyote smiled at her babbling, noting she caught herself this time. While he was proud of her for speaking so plainly, the fact she had recognized it meant she might be less likely to do so in less friendly areas of the world. “Halo has been here since after the first war, I think. Enkiel came not long after her. Neither have left,” he added with a snort, shaking his head lightly. “Not like your leader, here—I left twice chasing that sister of mine, and look where that got me.”

A shadow crossed over his face, suggesting talk of Talitha was unwelcomed. He closed his eyes, allowing Viggo to choose his own path. “I came home a little over two seasons after being sent away. My father and uncle trained me some, as did my aunt—she more in healing then combat. Hybrid was never really a big part of my lessons, though. Most of it was on my own; archery was virtually unique when I came home.” He recalled the first target he had set up, and the meeting with the peculiar wolf that had claimed a blood relation to him.

“You know,” he added, a cawing laugh escaping his throat. “I found Zana on our beach one day. Imagine that—she was even smaller then. Didn’t know anything about her except she was a Lykoi. I still don’t know who her father is…”

The blonde felt Viggo shift under him, turning to take a gentle slope downwards. Soon enough the land would open up, and then they would be able to send Ibsen out to scout. That would certain make things easier. Having been too young to remember the landscape and would use the raven to navigate them. While he had no doubt Kaena was sharp, he wasn’t sure how much someone her age would really remember. Any scent markings would have been gone since the fire and blizzard and the untold dramas enacted by the landscape without their packs within it.

“My father led Inferni since before the fire; he found a cousin here, Anselm—while the wolves were looking for homes blindly we had someone who knew this place. He ended up leaving at some point, and in the spring his daughter, Ryan, took up the role of Optio. We had some issues with another wolf pack at that time—Phoenix Valley. Some wolf kept crossing our borders; turned out he and Ryan were having an affair,” he added, thinking of the confirmation of this story by Zana’s tiny nephew.

Suddenly, his entire body stiffened. Viggo jerked his head up sharply, whinnied, and halted. The Aquila loosened his muscles enough to urge the horse on, kneeing him gingerly. He lowered his head, rubbed one hand across his face, and felt the scars over his left eye with worn hands. “A wolf nearly killed me, then. Tried to take out this eye,” he motioned to the scars, letting his hand fall back to Viggo’s bright mane. The color of his hand nearly matched the shade of the stallion. Dried blood. “He broke three ribs. It took me two months to recover.”

He looked up, eyeing the pass. They were out of the canyon now, and the horses began to spread out. Ibsen rose, stretching out his wings. With a gesture from the Aquila he took to the air, sought a thermal, and rode it. “We’ll keep heading west; if he sees anything he’ll come back,” Ezekiel commented to the women, glancing between the two.

His gaze settled onto Myrika again. “That’s when I left. Talitha had gone off again, and I tried to find her. Wound up making my way all the way to a placed called Baker Lake—there’s a lot of land up north, a lot of forest,” he paused, then laughed again. “And now I’m rambling. You asked about Inferni, not me.”


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#14
[html]


(739)
Moving this to Ashes and Ashes because that's clearly where they're at and where we'll end this, yes? c:

The rust-haired woman moved with her horse, ungainly body swaying with the surefooted mare. Myrika recalled the first time she gazed upon the sturdy blue roan. The tawny-furred woman had always found her mare a beautiful example of equine, and she had high hopes for the springtime foal Eira would bear. Viggo was certainly the best study animal within Inferni, and perhaps even all the northern packs.

She hoped for a chestnut like Viggo or a roan like Eira, but the russet-hued woman was not so selective with her horses' coat colors. She looked forward to raising and training a foal herself more than anything. Eira had been an adult when Myrika obtained her, and the khaki-colored woman thought it would be wonderfully hard work to break and train a horse from scratch. Spring could not come soon enough for the Praetorian.

The woman's thoughts of horses left her as Ezekiel began to speak. Myrika, for her part, remained silent as her cousin spoke, twitching her large ears every now and again. Although she was engrossed, Kaena cut in at one point, her voice gruff and insistent. Razekiel, or Samael, she barked when the subject of Zana's parentage was raised.

She is too old to be Arkham or Andrezej's get, and too coyote, if she's really a granddaughter rather than a great granddaughter, to be anyone else's child. And -- by all rights, she should be Samael's, then, since Razekiel didn't come back until after I did, the old woman said, bobbing her scarred head up and down as she spoke. She was confident, at least -- Myrika had no idea, though she knew Arkham and Andrezej to be her uncles, her mother's littermate brothers.

She looked at Kae a moment, turning her attention back toward Ezekiel. He seemed reluctant to speak on some parts, and the tawny-furred Praetorian knew better than to press on sore subjects. He even seemed outright alarmed at one point, and Viggo startled with his master. Eira snorted nervously, catching onto Viggo's anxiety. Myrika turned questioning turquoise eyes to her Aquila, watching as Ibsen launched into the air. The crow drifted skyward, and Myrika's ears twisted back toward the sound of Zeke's voice, her gaze following a moment later.

She considered her response for a long time before providing an answer to Ezekiel. She was surprised her grandmother remained silent, and noted the old woman's interest seemed fixed upon their surroundings rather than the words passing from Ezekiel now. That was fine by Myrika -- she was already privy to Kaena's perspective of Inferni's history, and now it was Ezekiel's that interested her.

Seniority and longevity don't make a leader. Even if you left, clearly, you did something right. I think your history is a part of Inferni's history, too. I'd also like to see you shoot someday -- I don't know the first thing about fighting, and... well, everyone should know how to defend themselves, the coyote said, shrugging her broad shoulders and smiling sheepishly. It did not shame her to admit areas of weakness, but perhaps she would not have admitted them so easily in the presence of another. She trusted Ezekiel, and even if it cost her a rank in admitting faults and failures, she thought it better for the whole of Inferni, then. What attachment did she have to rank? She felt truly awkward in this uppermost tier of Inferni, though she hid this better than some other areas of anxiety.

Myrika had been told Inferni was a place of smoke and blood, death and murder. She had discovered for herself this was not the case. The homeland of her bloodline was harsh, true enough, but what harshness they gave was only a product of their environment and history. She understood, or at least, she thought she did.

The horses moved forward with their same plodding pace. The land was beginning to show the scars and marks of fire -- the blackened tree trunks were bare and dead even for the midst of winter. Myrika's gaze lifted to the sky, and far off, she saw a speck against the clouds, white and fluffy as they were. Ibsen, she thought -- or some other bird. This one moved with purpose, however, and the rust-hued woman thought it must be Ezekiel's raven.



Myrika is by Alaine!

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[/html]
#15
[html]


(417) works for meeee



As it seemed, Kaena was the one who had the ability to narrow down the parentage of their tiny relative. Ezekiel frowned but did not comment on this. He had met Samael once since the sickness took him and found little there but madness—but he had been a boy defending his first boy’s love and blinded by such a thing. Siobhan was gone now, so what did it matter? He breathed out into the cold air and felt something stir within him, but it was faint and felt sick and old. Emotions had only served to make him into something he did not wish to be. The mask he wore could only hide him for so long.

Thus while Myrika’s words were pleasant, he felt a bitterness in his heart for the idea of rank and right to rule. Gabriel had been Inferni’s true leader, not his son; a cannibal ghost still lived in his belly and sought to ruin those who stood against him. Why else would he send them to almost certain death if not to test their loyalty? Paranoia had made him into a leader willing to bleed out his followers to see their true colors.

“My father appointed me because there was no one else,” he said finally, his voice flat. “Halo is a great fighter, but she lacks true discipline. She allows herself to be weak for fits of self-righteousness; Talitha was his second-in-command, but she was too cruel. My sister might not have looked it,” a faint and terrible smile crossed his face. “But she was some kind of monster. I see a lot of her in Halo these days,” he added. “I chose Sage because I saw potential in her…and I was wrong.”

Around them, the forest showed its true damage. Ezekiel thought hard about the fire and found he could not remember much; as a puppy he had been barely old enough to survive without his mother. There was smoke, and heat, but mostly he remembered his father’s voice and being carried through the mountain. “I can teach you to fight,” he added suddenly. “I can teach you to use a bow, too. But there’s a lot that you already know,” the Aquila went on, amber eyes brightening with something close to joy. “Tooth and claw and all that; heredity has something to do with it too.” This joke was accented by a glance to Kaena, though he was certain his belief in such ghosts was the truth.

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#16
[html]

(420)
Not that it matters much, but you had an unclosed speech tag in your last post and your word count is off by ~3 words. ^_^ I edited your post to fix! <3 Also, bad post is bad. :C



Myrika is by Bobbi!

Kaena's tattered black ear was cocked away from Ezekiel, the good one tilted forward to catch his words. She seemed more comfortable in the saddle on this journey, and Myrika thought perhaps it was possible to teach an old dog new tricks. Certainly, Kaena had only ridden horses in the last few years of her life -- the old woman had lived nearly ten years without encountering a work horse, after all. She did not mind anyone's silence regarding Samael. None saw him in the same light she did -- none knew his truer character. The scarred woman worried for him frequently, but she knew he would return to her, sooner or later. He had brought a kind of peace to her life, chaotic and difficult to predict as he was.

She could not say she disagreed with any of Ezekiel's words regarding leadership, but for her grandchildren to discuss it so openly before her brought a sour taste to the old woman's mouth. She licked her scarred, red-splashed muzzle, swinging her golden-yellow eye from Ezekiel to Myrika. She wanted to speak, she wanted to protest and tell Ezekiel she was still good for this job, if he let her have a chance. It would seem too much like pleading, however, and as sharp as her mind was, the scarred hybrid knew her body was failing. Her remaining eye was growing dimmer with each passing month -- she'd be blind before she was truly and thoroughly dead, she thought. A blind, old subleader was no subleader at all.

You're a good judge of character, the rust-haired woman said, almost too quiet for Kaena to hear. The old woman leaned forward with the strain of listening in. Sometimes everyone makes mistakes, she added, shrugging and frowning. She knew Sage had defected to the mountain pack. She knew it very well, and had perhaps seen such a thing coming -- in hindsight, it was easy to remember that journey into Ichikan territory and recall Sage's behavior as aberrant.

I... think that skill set must've skipped my generation, she said, fidgeting in the saddle. She knew nothing of fighting by tooth and claw, and shooting a bow? Surely, this was a skill requiring technical know-how and experience, not something one learned by instinct alone. The old woman behind them snorted quietly, but remained quiet. When Myrika again looked back, Kaena was still studying the landscape, peering over the burned treetrunks with a curious yellow-golden eye.

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#17
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lolol I suck <3



Whether or not he was offending Kaena was of little concern to Ezekiel. As he knew it, she had willingly stepped down from her position due to age and without the spry body of her youth, having a woman as old as herself concerned about politics seemed foolish. Ezekiel wanted to ensure that Myrika understood because even now, he was carefully grooming her and positioning her for the future. By size alone the tall girl could have held herself against the indomitable wave of doubt and hardship that would follow, but mentally she was not ready. Spiritually, she was not ready.

So he listened to his cousin and echoed her shrug with one of his own. Sage had been a failed experiment begun before Myrika’s arrival. Her father had poisoned her with the free-spirit of his madness and ruined any hope that the Aquila had. With this girl it was different; she had proven willing to be molded and capable of adaptation when Sage was not. This, Ezekiel imagined, was what would allow for her to be prepared.

He cocked an ear at her repetition of doubt, and offered a savage and toothy smile. While his body was thick like that of a wolf, his face held the sharp angles of his mother and the ferocity of her bloodline. “I doubt that,” Ezekiel said, and turned his face forward. “My hope is that everyone in Inferni should know some combat skills—ones beyond instinct. We’ve had enough trouble with our neighbors in the past, so I imagine that it’ll happen again someday.”

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#18
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(362)
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut a mauris at tortor consectetur semper eu sit amet dui.



Myrika is by me!

The tawny-furred woman was not aware of just how much she had changed in recent months. She had been with Inferni just over half a year with the coming of deep winter, though it was hard to imagine. She had come to the pack at the end of summer, greeted by Talitha. It was her one and only encounter with Ezekiel's half-sister, and from the way he spoke of her, she dared not broach this subject with him any further than he offered.

There's nothing wrong with that. You know I was told Inferni was a place of madness and ceaseless bloodshed, she said, fidgeting in Eira's saddle and glancing back in Kaena's direction. The old woman still seemed absorbed in their surroundings, though now she leaned forward in her own seat, as if listening in. Oblak was a good choice of horse for her, and Myrika was glad their equines were getting along quite so well. It might be more difficult when they came to the river, but she there was time enough between now and then. She wanted to say she hoped the trouble would come when she was gone, but she did not know when she was leaving -- if she was leaving, truly, at this point. And anyway, it was a cowardly thing to say -- better to try and make Ezekiel think she was brave, however far from the truth it was.

I know better now, but... well, Inferni did earn the skulls around its border. It wasn't without being provoked, though, she said, shrugging and frowning. She hadn't thought a lot about that. Her observations of Inferni's history were cut and dry, the observations of a scientist or researcher watching some vicious wild species. She had not thought of her own place in it and what she might be called upon to do someday, and it was an uncomfortable subject -- not something she wished to ruminate over in the presence of her cousin and grandmother. Inferni was and could still be tramontane -- she was not a barbarian, and she did not know how to kill or how to defend.


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#19
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(365)



“I don’t doubt that,” Ezekiel commented idly, turning his head skyward to note the position of the raven. They were following him more-or-less, though Ezekiel trusted Viggo to find his footing along the burnt ground. With winter yet upon them, the barren world was blanketed in soft white. It confused his senses, though Ezekiel did not remember the land as he imagined Kaena did. For this reason he did not presume to know their course, but instead followed the path of the raven and trusted him to find a crossing at the river. “Our ways are not those of others; intelligence makes for morality and most people seem to find ours lacking. They forget we are creatures of flesh and blood, and that we have a right to live and defend our home as they do.”

It was a simplistic view on the way things were. Ezekiel had an eye for politics and understood social structures as they grew, even if they were false and peculiar in the way of the wild. He was a man torn between two worlds and it was apparent by the way he carried himself and spoke. “My father told me he learned of the skulls from Scintilla. Aemon and Ithiel are from there, and Aemon told me the practice still stands. Enemies will know of Inferni’s might long before they try our strength; and by now, it’s as much ritual as it is practical.” He shrugged, unsure if she would understand. Often, he found himself speaking in riddles despite his desire to be clear.

He cast a glance back to the rising points of the mountain range behind them. If only this land could support them, he might once more turn Inferni to live a tramontane life, away from the bickering packs and enemies on all fronts. Yet realistically, no massive clan such as their own cold live here. A loner, perhaps, but not for long. “Anyhow, I’ll fit you in for lessons when we’re free. You can spar with Max as well—he’s skilled for his age but he’s still young. Even Vesper could help you; she’s still learning how to use her body, now that she’s changed.”

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#20
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Myrika is by Kiki!

She did not think Inferni's intelligence was lacking. Morality, perhaps -- she did not necessarily agree with everything her fellows did, but then again, neither did Ezekiel. Everyone had some crime in the eyes of Inferni, or so she thought. Her own misgivings would be forgotten, in due time, as she integrated herself with the clan more fully and completely. It no longer registered to Myrika that this was something to avoid -- her father's repetitions were faint and faraway, and little more than the faintest tickle at the back of her mind. Ezekiel was not bloodthirsty. Most of her clan-mates were not barbarians.

The russet-haired woman nodded uncertainly when Ezekiel offered several names for her to choose from for a sparring partner. She did not know if she wanted to endure such lessons, but her Aquila had just as well said they were required of anyone within Inferni, or should be. There was time enough to fret over this, but even now Myrika knew the will of her Aquila would win out. The demands of her homeland were plenty, but she must rise to them, or she would surely fall from Inferni's good graces. Good-bye, Praetorian, she thought, unhappily.

Thanks. She wasn't certain what more there was to say, and as she was consumed with her own thoughts, thoughts which focused on the skulls ringing their borders. How long before she was made to hang a skull of her own design upon the pikes?

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