Ankyra Sound a grey mist on the sea’s face

Eske’s approach draws forth a soft growl from the inkblot that she almost does not hear but at last moment the Cheka’s ears perk atop her skull but she chooses to ignore the feeble warning. She does not believe the female — whom appears as if she is trying to tuck into herself so much that she will simply vanish from thin air — to be of a threat, or in much of a physical state to lash out and harm her …and even if she does Eske is confident she can put her down without much effort. An ear swivels back to hear her Commander’s question and Eske extends her muzzle — not close enough to touch and far enough away so that if the inkblot does strike out Eske can recoil back to avoid attack — to drink in the abused woman’s scent. As she is rarely outside of Drageda she cannot claim she recognizes the pack’s scent that stubbornly clings, however faintly it is now, to the inkblot’s fur. “em sen bilaik jus, wamplei en tri.” This is the best way Eske can describe the pack scent. Of course the inkblot has her own wounds that give off their own putrid scent of blood but Eske smells blood that is not hers as well, mixed in with the musk and perfume of others. A glimpse back to The Commander is given as Eske looks to see if her description — as mediocre as it is — calls to mind any pack that Heda is familiar with.