Blackwater Islands Vicarious

*swoops in*

The call marked the beginning of something that would continue for generations. A loner, or stranger, had requested attendance at the border and Akantha swept herself up from her perch atop a large driftwood tree. She was farther away than Kalika, initially, so it took her a few extra minutes to arrive. Unlike the younger woman, she was not nearly as swift on her feet, though she still carried her dense bulk with the grace becoming of a wolf.

She cut through a swath of the Thistlewood until the sandbar, and the pair, were in sight. In a thicket of ferns and young trees, the Matriarch lingered to ascertain the situation. The stranger ignited a tickle of familiarty at the base of her skull, and that curiousity (and her duty as the Matriarch) brought her out of the brush and down onto the sands with her tail and head lifted in an authorative manner. 

Familiar or not, she expected due deference. She silently bared her teeth, and lashed her tail like a scythe through the misty sea air. The thickset woman glanced towards her ambassador-to-be, and waited for an explaination.