From Lucrezia's Bedroom to the Preserve, Saturday, Late Afternoon / Early Evening

[holy_daughter]

All day, Lucrezia had felt not herself. All of her clothes were constricting; something itched beneath the surface of her skin. Something was new. Something had changed.

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[justlurkinghere]

That was... not a noise Derek had thought to hear on the island. It certainly wasn't a wolf howl of any variety he knew of.

But it was enough to stop him up short when he heard it. And to go looking for the source.

Just in case it turned out to be less than friendly. So, hey there random coyote in the woods. How you doin'? Doin' fine? Good to know. Excuse Derek while he just lurked behind this tree and frowned at you.

[holy_daughter]

Lucrezia had run for -- hours? Days? She didn't know, nor did she care. Was she truly Lucrezia at this moment? She was a wolf -- no, not quite a wolf. That name felt wrong. Some creature that the other-her had not yet encountered; nearly a wolf, but smaller. Hungrier, perhaps.

She was lowering her head to the stream, lapping up its cuttingly cold water, when a new scent appeared. Like-her-but-not. She didn't know what that meant; she had yet to smell any of her own kind, either not-a-wolf or human. She sent her eyes through the night until she spotted a suggestion, a shape near a tree.

She thumped her tail, slowly. Some primal part of her wished to growl, threateningly, but curiosity outweighed her territorialness. That could change, if the stranger proved menacing.

The creature should come closer, that she might see.

[justlurkinghere]

Which was probably for the best considering how natural wolves and coyotes ended up reacting to each other.

He gave the animal--shifter--whatever--a deeply unimpressed look, head tilting to the side in response. "Of course."

Of course he had to come find an interloper.

[holy_daughter]

The shape was humanoid; she could see that better as she slowly approached, sniffing the ground and the nearby vegetation in case they held clues. And because scent was the most intriguing thing in the world, today. There were layers and layers underneath.

She stopped again at a fair distance, barking once. He didn't seem all that happy to see her. She didn't like not having proper greetings.

Usually her name was called formally, in her father's court; this was considerably more informal. But she'd trade bells and choirs for a touch of mutual respect.

Did he want something? Was he friend, foe, or something yet undetermined? She had claws, and teeth. It would seem to give her the advantage, unless he had a weapon. Or skills she didn't yet suspect.