Silver Creek the stranger

Miyax knew the law of the wolf. She knew she had done wrong in coming this far, but she also knew what she had witnessed back home. It was a common occurrence to find wolves throughout one's territory; those that held interest in joining made themselves known, as she had. They rolled in scents, they shadowed the hunters as they wandered, or tried to mold themselves in to the chosen group as flawlessly as possible. Clearly this was not the result that Miyax was accruing.

The (perceived) leader spoke. The words meant little to her, but their tone was everything. His posture, every subtle look and shift of his body, these things Miyax read and understood. The third wolf to arrive in defence of the borders was quickly discliplined. Miyax remained submissive. She filled the air with a soft whine as she looked upon Casmir — even when the other woman began to turn upon her.

It was heartbreaking, but it was the way of things. Something unsettled these wolves and no matter how hard Miyax tried to appease them, it did no good. She was on her feet within a few moments, unwilling to push her luck, and creeping backwards. All the while she looked to Casmir with pleading eyes, a curved and contrite posture to her body, and her tail curled to her underside — maybe if she was lucky, maybe, maybe...

However, she was back across the marked line and through the no wolf zone, tracing her path in reverse, and only gave a fleeting look back at the missed opportunity.