Ravensblood Forest Smells like a cheap hotel

Betwixt a blue-green spruce and a petrified cedar strode a narrow-faced hybrid whose manner was positively mischievous. Her long ears were pulled back, her lips drooped into a pout, and she walked with a pronounced limp that only an astute observer would realize was fake. Her sister, for example, would immediately have outed Kaliska if she'd witnessed this display, but thankfully that wench wasn't the one she was trying to trick. The target of the coywolf's charade was undecided; whatever poor soul came across her would surely wish they hadn't.

For Kaliska was synonymous with trouble, and where she went, it followed. Oftentimes it was harmless, done for a laugh or for some vague benefit. Rarely did it result in injury to the victim or to herself. She was much too wary to allow danger to visit her, even in the midst of twisting someone's arm around. In this case, Kaliska was interested in exploitation rather than entertainment.

Seating herself heavily, the coywolf lifted her paw and yipped a convincingly sad note, hoping to draw some unwitting, soft-hearted fool to herself.