Jade Fern Grove We'll make a way

Time spent in the Depths had done her well. Security, a stable diet, protection and a home. She had filed in nicely in her narrow figure, her coat carried a gossamer sheen. Her vanity helped, carefully groomed and clean, there was no denying that the coyote was beautiful. We're she a wolf, she may have had dozens of suitors. Alas, she was not, and went unoticed by most. But still she was a beautiful creature, and she knew it very well.

Today she had travelled far from the coast, on her own adventure of sorts. She came across the Grove by twilight, the sky overcast and creating this twilight that was far too early. Her golden orbs scanned the border she had suddenly found herself on, wondering briefly should she attempt to cross. Her own little adventure into Donnelaith had not gone...that badly. 
@Xan! Sorry it's a little short

All good!

Never before had he been the sort to patrol borders. There were times when he was younger that he’d tagged along with his father, but little attention had been paid for it’d not been anything of interest to him. But, for whatever reason, the boy had found himself lingering along the outskirts of the grove anyways. Xan didn’t go through the same sort of tasks that a guardian might, though, and he hadn’t discontinued his walk, either. Up until the point at which a foreign scent was picked up on, he’d carried on with what he was doing.

The smell of a coyote had made for a stop to be made, his surroundings assessed, and then the trail followed. He knew the lesser canines to be scavengers, as well as that their presences were often not welcomed. And so he’d followed after the scent until a small form was spotted, which he’d then approached with his tail raised and ears up. Already had a glare found its way into his eyes, despite the female having done nothing other than exist. “Scavengers aren’t allowed to be here,” the boy stated, having brought himself to a stop between her and his new home. He couldn’t recall having run into a coyote in the past, but he had encountered foxes and more or less viewed the two species as being on the same level as one another.

He arrived, and she was shocked. Never before had she taken any interest in males, but from the beginning this ine was different. His coat, undiluted white, and his eyes blood-red jewels. Her gaze trailed over him, amazed into silence a moment before answering his question in a voice that still carried the lilting tune of an acient accent. "I do not see any scavengers." She said mildly, gazing at him with a quirked brow.

"What is this place?" She asked of him, defiantly ignoring the way he didn't seem to think much of her, already far too interested in the albino male, though she did nowt know him to be called such.

To have the eyes of another roaming over his body was not something that was new to him. Whether it be male or female, he’d discovered already that his looks were capable of drawing others in. Even with this realization, he’d yet to become vain, often having brushed it all off. He’d yet to verbally acknowledge the curious gazes of anyone, and the coyote was not a special case. He was still as she looked him over, ignoring the fact that she was doing so and focusing instead on why she was there. To her, the same sort of interest had not been extended, for his gaze remained glued to her face rather than taking an opportunity to further explore her figure.

When she spoke, he’d shot back with: “You’re a scavenger.” Having nothing to go off of other than stories about the smaller creatures, it wasn’t hard to lump them all into the same group. They were scavengers, lesser beings, and tended to cause more trouble than they did good. “This is my home,” was all he’d said in response to her question. He knew not of it’s name, nor did he care to learn it, for all that mattered was that it existed as a home for him and the others.

He was curt, direct, and did not give more information then requested. Yet he still held an unspoken, alluring thing that drew her in, and already she was smitten. "I hunt my own prey." she informed him curtly, yet when he confirmed that this place was indeed his home, her interest in him did not allow for her to simply walk away. "does your home have a name?" she prompted, though in truth she was more interested in the male then whatever name his home may have.

The boy snorted when she spoke of hunting for herself, having a hard time believing her. He was raised to believe that coyotes were nothing more than thieves and filthy scavengers. That they would feast upon the carrion of anything without hesitation. To hear one claim that they didn’t do as he was raised to think was most unusual, as well as unimaginable. “Sure you do,” he sneered, unconvinced. He opened his mouth to make another remark but shut it as soon as she’d asked a question. It was a simple curiosity to answer, but he’d needed to take a moment in order to decide whether or not it was okay to tell her. He soon realized that there didn’t exist a single reason for not telling her that was justifiable.

“Tortuga,” was the answer given. “Coyotes aren’t allowed to join.” Well, he had assumed so, anyways. It didn’t make sense to him that a lesser canine would be allowed to hang around with a pack. He'd kept his eye on her, watching and waiting for a mistake to be made before his patience had finally run out. With little warning, he'd run at the stranger and chased her off. Only after he'd felt as if she'd gone far enough away had he turned around and returned home, where his patrol was continued—if the coyote would have come back, he'd have been ready.