Stavanger Bay It's better to follow me

Atoll listened intently to the woman, wondering what sort of prey she was accustomed to hunting. The caches could always hold more prey, of course, but this was not truly where their needs laid. The sea was rich with fish, after all, and most of her pack was quite adept at catching those. But perhaps she could be put to other uses; it didn't take any skill to go out in search of herbs, and Atoll was at loathe to leave the territory in order to do it herself.

"I understand your fear," she said to the woman, offering a warm smile. "But we are not so different, Artemis - coyote blood flows in my veins. There is another of our pack that is at least half. Not all will be welcoming, but they will all know my scent on your fur."

Moving a bit closer, the Blackrock beta attempted to groom her coyote, thus further spreading her scent. "I will ask that you hunt, like the rest of us - that is enough to earn a wolf their place, and that will be enough for you," she assured. "If you find extra time, I also have a task for you."

She paused there, though, to see what her coyote might think of such a thing. The Atoll did not know if she would be receptive toward being given chores, and expected obedience in the manner only as a beta might expect obedience from their pack. For although she considered Artemis hers, now, she felt no need to show such things with commands and displays of control. It was, perhaps, a different kind of ownership than most wolves might understand. Artemis had been given to her, but as something to be cherished and used, but not mistreated.