Starglow Basin deioces

it wasn't fair!

he'd made no mistakes in trying to mend that internal quarrel—none whatsoever! only for the queen he advocated for to come up with child to the rival kingdom's prince, damn her eyes. 

so now, for his "failure," he was once again out on his arse.

it simply was not fair.

and there wasn't even a view to soothe his aching spirits. he cast a jaundiced eye upward toward the heavens, where thick clouds covered the stars that supposedly gave this place its name. snowflakes settled upon his nape, shoulders and rump; the air was cold and dry, and his throat itched with it.

the coyote coughed once, twice, then stopped, scowling at the path ahead. 

he would reinvent himself, sure. . .but how many reinventions could he endure before he was a haphazard, piecemeal mess, useful to exactly no one?

Pregnancy had made Candle restless. She often ranged across the lowlands hunting what she could, but less and less as her belly grew and she found herself more easily tired. Still, the restlessness lingered.

A wordless invitation was given to @Zoug, who had become more protective of her and S'ari, before she parted the ravine under starlight. Whether he followed or not, she meant to hunt. Instead of prey scent, however, the priestess found herself on the trail of kin. Another coyote. Another potential for The Tribe, in her mind.

Aware of the vulnerability of her condition, Candle slowed to a halt the moment she spotted the figure in the distance. She stood and studied him. Unremarkable, but there was a comfort in that. Candle yipped softly to catch his attention.

he came along.

men of the clan did not leave their women to forage alone. he certainly would not let his pregnant mate far from his side. zoug was aware of each possible danger in the ravine, his single eye searching for the slither pattern of snakes, the broad tracks of wolves, the blunted, massive print of the occasional cat which searched for water among the scarletstone winding. 

and the reek of coyotes, which came now.

candle called out. 

zoug was a shadow at her side, his bloodstains refreshed, scarlet daubed from chin to chest once more. a thin piece of rabbit-bone was tangled in the fur along the left side of his face, just below the ear.

even in the darkness, he perceived them. together, they were shadow and light, contrasting well side-by-side. his head shot up at the yip and he turned, golden eyes giving them the once-over.

they were his kind.

greetings, narses said politely, bowing his head. his nostrils flared at the scent of old blood upon the man. violent folk, these—and not afraid to advertise it. 

narses, he introduced himself. who do i have the pleasure of meeting, this evening?

The scent of blood followed Zoug at her side. Candle cast a single appreciative glance over her mate before all of her attention was taken by the stranger. A well-mannered man; Narses.

Nar - ses, She echoed, tail moving tentatively. Candle. The priestess gestured to her mate. Zoug. Then to the desert beyond, in the direction of their ravine. Tribe.

Her eyes found Narses again, curious.

a strong hunter. a man who did not challenge.

zoug was silent. candle's ability to speak had always exceeded his, and now that he had fewer reasons to speak, the man had all but turned back on words he had previously spoken.

instead he shifted almost imperceptibly beside candle, signalling her attention. two quick, subtle gestures, one of which was only a roll of his shoulder, said ask him about wolf. where wolf has been seen. where he has walked. where he has hunted.

she spoke in monosyllables; the man, not at all. primal folk, these.

a tribe of. . .our kind? he asked, bending his pointed chin toward his sternum in illustration.

for he'd found wolf-scents in this land, and he knew coyotes ran with them on occasion. he didn't trust the bigger, brutish creatures; they lacked finesse and imagination.

but maybe his sample size had been too small.