Sleepy Fox Hollow the white room by a window

for @Wylla, because I cannot resist

There was a new scent within the borders of Diaspora. Maegi found it several days prior, sniffing along the edge of the territory. A female, a year or two older than herself. She had smirked; it seemed the mountain pack had no shortage of women in its ranks. Would Mahler court them all?

She followed the woman's trail idly, not necessarily seeking an introduction. . .but she would not be disappointed if there was one. The impulse to act as a leader, a shepherd, to greet all those who came—it was still very much ingrained in her mind, and terribly hard to stifle. It was Mahler's and Takiyok's duties to do that. For her part, she just needed to contribute and be loyal.

One day, she sometimes thought, a sentiment Maegi often quelled. No day. No day would come again when she ruled over a pack. She was utterly unfit for it.

After depositing the bone in a hastily dug cache, Wylla stalked off into the forest, allowing her confusion to fester into anger. It wasn't her fault if one proud man couldn't take some criticism on what was so obviously a terrible idea. Sue her for being honest! Sue her for thinking of the poor children born of loveless contracts for something as cold as politics!

(Was that how she'd been born? She wasn't sure; Tachyon had been dead before she could meet him, and if Lusca had spoken of him, it was fleeting.)

So locked in her own mind was she that Wylla almost stalked right past Maegi without seeing her, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision only because the two-toned eyes registered at the very last second. She drew up mere inches from knocking into the she-wolf, who was practically invisible in the snow. Woah, Wylla huffed, dark ears flattening. Watch it! Even though it would've been due to her inattention and not Maegi's, but whatever. Details.

Her heart stopped, lodged at the base of her throat, as someone nearly careened into her. She'd been just as abstracted as Wylla and didn't know where the fault lie; she mumbled a quick apology, eyes slanting sideways. Her nostrils flared —

Wait, this was the new wolf. Maegi returned her gaze to the black-masked woman, intrigued. Did you just get here? she asked, half-rhetorically. . .but perhaps the question would bring out more information. At any rate, Maegi could use some friends.

She wasn't good at keeping those, at least long term.

Shifting the blame to Maegi was surprisingly easy, enough to placate Wylla for the moment. She'd expected backlash, but sometimes other wolves were cooperative with her finger-pointing, and it always made her feel better when they were. Like Maegi, Wylla could use a friend or two, but it was a loooong and bumpy road trying to make friends with someone as thorny as her, so we'll see how it goes.

Who's asking? Wylla replied, wondering if this was Mahler's co-leader that he intended to have children with. He could ... probably do better than her, Wylla thought, eyes scanning a little judgmentally over the Glasgow grin and the twisted club foot she hadn't noticed before. Not exactly the prettiest wolf, but she supposed it was an arrangement made of practicality rather than looks.

Still, who the fuck wanted a cripple for a mom? How would she even hunt for any kids she had? Seemed unfair to make the man do all the work.

She didn't like the way the other woman looked at her. The way so many had looked at her, but more openly, more brazenly. Maegi fixed her with a gimlet stare, waiting for their gazes to meet again before she responded, My name is Maegi. Yours? Yes, they were off to a lovely start, apparently.

I'm new to Diaspora as well, she added. She wondered what had brought her here. The famine? Most likely. The world had been so unsettled by the shaking that Maegi was sure she was not the only one to seek a new home. How many more would they see come before the winter was over?

Wylla. It was delivered with a grimace, as if the idea of giving her name out to random wolves was distasteful. But Maegi wasn't just some random wolf, was she? Maegi was a pack mate and Wylla had to get along with her, or at least make an effort to, if she wished to remain here in the mountains for a time. Mahler had told her to be more respectful than she thought necessary, after all.

Since Maegi's name confirmed that she was not Mahler's co-leader, Wylla opted for civil but chilly as she turned her lithe body with every intention of side-stepping Maegi and continuing on. She paused at the sound of Maegi's voice, however, and swung her head to regard the other woman with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

Good for you, she said. But I'm not sure why you think I care.

She didn't miss the grimace and was puzzled as to why this woman seemed to harbor so much distaste toward her. Was it really about how she looked? Others had been frightened or taken aback, but this was a sort of revulsion she was unfamiliar with. She was willing to give Wylla the beneft of the doubt, especially as the encounter seemed to draw to a close. . .

And then Wylla spoke again.

What the hell is your problem? Maegi called out after her, narrowing her eyes. I'm just trying to make conversation. You could at least pretend that you're not such a—rude bitch, she decided, settling upon one of Venamis's favorite words. Ah, the young Melonii had given her some wisdom, after all.

Oooh, she was a touchy one. Wylla was no stranger to being called names, so this hardly fazed her. The truth of the matter was simply that Wylla was unfriendly, particularly so to other women. Maybe it was due to feeling competitive or maybe it was pure, brutal jealousy, but whatever the case, Wylla had a hard time being nice to other bitches until they showed her something worthy of being nice about. And while Maegi didn't have many assets for Wylla to be jealous about—she considered herself both prettier and more desirable than the club-footed she-wolf—she was a lady and that was really all it took.

She was mean to men, as well, just less inclined toward catty remarks.

You done? she asked, turning her head to regard Maegi with one taunting yellow eye. They could be friends someday, maybe, but it took a lot of fortitude to put up with Wylla's attitude long enough to earn her respect... which, in most cases, wasn't worth it at all. The older she got, the less of a bitch she became, but hell would freeze over before anyone ever deemed her "good company".

That was it? Maegi snorted. Yeah, I'm done, she responded sourly, moving in perpendicular direction away from the she-wolf with one ear trained sideways, in case of an ambush. Some wolves just liked to pick fights. Maegi was not one of them.

Perhaps the two would one day warm to each other, but this day, the atmosphere between the two of them was chilly as any winter night.

Sorry this is so abbreviated!

With nary a sound more, Wylla turned back to the path, leaving a well-meaning Maegi behind. A tiny part of her might eventually feel guilty about being such an asshole to someone who was obviously just trying to be friendly, but "eventually" was a long way away.

Who cared if someone was new or not? Small talk had never been, and would never be, Wylla's forte, and that was half the problem.