@Devil I am enjoying Tomahawk far too much these days.
She hadn't really meant to wander away, but she'd been restless. As the days wore on, it became more and more clear that she was with child. She awoke with stomach cramps, coughed up her food more often than not, and found herself craving grass, berries, and all sorts of things that made little sense... most times of the year. But Lavakho had taken her, as had the nameless coyote she'd met. She would birth children to gift to her Khal, and if she was lucky, he would accept her offering.
Laying in the grass, Tomahawk gnawed mindlessly on a few blades of grass, ripping another batch of them up when she'd swallowed the first. The afternoon often meant a reprieve from work, which she took, letting her body relax in the sunshine.
That's a good thing! I have been simultaneously bored but not feeling like doing anything, I hate those kinds of moods they are so difficult to work with lol.
It had been a week, or so. The time did not matter. He had nothing to attend to and so attended to his whims; he sought her, with a keen nose monitoring the wind. He found her quickly after scenting her, lounging by the water not far from the plains the wolves and she resided in. With the stealth of a cat he stole toward her, keeping downwind as he made an arc to determine that she was in fact a lone. Then he presented himself.
"So, you've been granted leave for a while, hm?"
Tomahawk had been nodding off when she heard him, and she stood and spun around to face the coyote. Her hackles raised and she curled her lip at him. She owed him nothing, or so he had said during their last encounter. Tomahawk had gotten what she'd needed from him. She said nothing and instead made her intent clear with posturing. She was not here to talk, and she would definitely not be talking with him. Her only gift to him was not calling for her Khal to capture him as a slave... a thought that had crossed her mind on more than one occasion.
She was quite happy to see him, apparently. Bristling and posturing with all the warmth of a long lost friend. He let his eyes travel upwards momentarily as he drew a deep, audible breath. He said nothing, and did nothing but sit in his characteristic pose - with his tail curled neatly about his paws. His unblinking gaze was upon her, patiently waiting her next move.
He did nothing, curling his tail around his feet. Tomahawk remained on the defensive, yellow eyes boring into his own. Unlike the Dotharan, whom she obeyed without question, she would do no such thing for this one (at least not knowingly). "Get lost," she barked, "Or I'll have them make you into one of their play things." Rakharo was never too far away, and she would call upon him if the coyote did not leave.
"Like you?" he challenged. He rose to his feet then. Paw over paw he drew himself closer, until there was only a muzzle length of distance between. He spoke levelly, calmly, but there was ice where once there was silk. "You assume that I want something, that I am here to pester you in some way, because your life is not your own. You only look up to the wolves because you have placed yourself so far beneath them."
"I had a life of my own," she replied, seething, "I hated it." Tomahawk had been lost her entire life. She had never known where she belonged, what (or who) she was. She had lived in a strange limbo between coyote and wolf. She'd been born one, but raised to be the other. He could not understand... but the Dotharan did. They understood her place even better than she did. With them, she had a place. With them, she had direction. With them, she did not have to think about what to do next.
His ear twitched. Of course she had hated it. She had been living a charade. Pretending to be something she was not and could never be. To an untrained eye they looked similar, wolves and coyotes, but the two species could not be further apart. "You've never lived the life you were born to live," he said flatly. "You should try it."
"I did," she shot back. Tomahawk had tried to live as a coyote, but everything had been out of place. When they had attempted to give her children the year past, she hadn't been able to go through with it. Now, she had a reason to. Now, she would have precious gifts for her Khal, and he would shower her with praise. What did he want, anyway? He said again and again that he wanted nothing, and yet he would not leave her alone. What was he trying to convince her of?
If she had then she had given up, or not had been show what it meant to be coyote, what it meant to live as she had been intended. He narrowed his eyes. There was no better life. He could show her, but his level of care did not extend much further than his own nose. Though, he found her curious, and even as he turned to leave her, knew he would find her again.
The gift-bringer left her, and Tomahawk's hackles smoothed along her back. Feeling the pull of Rakharo and his pack, she returned to them. She needn't stay away from them any longer. She had kept away from Lavakho even after her time of need had passed, fearing that he might take her again. She did not want to sin again and bring the wrath of Rakharo upon her.