Lion Head Mesa A fake brother, who steals your jeans.

She'd given @Roswell a brief nudge of farewell—but not necessarily 'see you later'—before heading out, making the quick jaunt from caldera to mesa. She pulled up to Akashingo's territory around sunset, the colors hitting her pelt in various golden hues, and howled.

Lilitu firmed her jaw, adjusting her stance. She was gracious, but not shy.

She knew for which she came.

And she would control her own destiny. Not driven by children or mates, like her mother. Nor pack, like her fellow Brecheliant comrades.

Something greater. That of blood.