Kalika was perfectly still, listening to the harmonic hymns of the waves as they crashed against the shore. It brought a sense of calm over the yearling, as though the water was whispering it's most precious secrets to her, and her alone.
Tell me why
, she pleaded, though her voice was barely above a whisper,
Why have you led me here?
Kalika's tongue curled around the Greek with perfect precision, though her lips quivered with each word. She was broken, devastated, and though
@Meteora had given her a home and promises of a new beginning, Kalika was alone.
She allowed her head to hang before her as she silently mourned her mother.
Why did you lead me here mother? Why here?
Kalika lifted her head and looked out over the horizon, scanning the glistening crystals of the below freezing waters. Though they tempted her, reeling her in more with each crash, she remained still, stuck in her state of grief.
The ghostly voice and cries drew her like a specter in the night. Where ever there was crying, there was always Indie. It could not be helped; the vamp was drawn to the vulnerability, the opportunity of it all. There was nothing like a disheartened wolf to tip over and spill information — and though not everything Indie did had an ulterior motive, the habit was hard to break.
Indie’s golden gaze flashed in the dark, glinting against the sight of the small femme, thrown upon the beach. She knew this woman, this young coquette, as they traveled together with the rest of the Nereides wolves. It was a great, powerful group of women and Indie found herself captivated by the individuality and austerity of their culture. The femme, which Indie remembered being called Kalika,
“Darling, Darling!” Indie spoke as though she were the forlorn woman’s bigger sister; kind, but with an air of authority. Though Indie were only a year or so older than Kalika, she carried herself as if she had plenty of years on her rap sheet. “What saddens you so?”
Kalika heard Indie's boisterous entry and turned her head to curse under her breath undetected. She cleared her throat and lifted herself onto all fours, then turned to face Indie in a more open manner. Who, me?
she asked with mock confusion, I was just...I was just looking out to sea, is all.
Kalika gave a smile to reassure her packmate that all was well, though none of what she felt was even close to alright. She tried to keep herself composed, though faint cracks in her voice might've been detected if Indie had a good enough ear.
The pale girl seemed to draw herself up quickly, defensively, when Indie greeted her. Her voiced did not evince the pain it held just moments before, to Indie's amusement. She seemed fine and delicate whereas the dark vaudevillian was statuesque and voluptuous. Surely the two shewolves, opposites to their core, made for quite a sight. Indie huffed and shook her head, corners of her mouth pulled into a wry smile. She couldn’t help it. “The wolves ‘round here don’t often look to the sea without a good reason.” Indie’s golden gaze flicked out to the ocean, but quickly focused back on the young woman in front of her. She wondered if this sea god would ever capture her like it captured so many of the sirens around her; but how could she be preoccupied with godliness when there were so many more earthly, interesting things to distract her?
Perhaps the girl didn’t want to talk about it yet [for she had sounded upset before her miraculous recovery], so Indie segued.
“Who are you?” She questioned the girl with a cant of her head, her buxom feathered ears tilting to one side. Indie’s thick voice smoked out of her mouth, asking a question that served two purposes. The first was to affirm the girl’s identify as Kalika, the young vix from the ice storm. The second was to matriculate, to gently wrap her mind around the woman, to learn what drove her and what she feared and felt. The dark chanteuse veiled herself in a mirage of interest and flattery to obscure the intent that lie underneath. Wolves likes to talk about themselves, so she would continue to ask them about themselves; for when they talked about themselves, they were distracted.
and Indie was never distracted.
It's fair to mention that by this point, Kalika didn't much like Indie. She didn't like the way she spoke or the way she walked; she didn't like how she acted or how she thought, and so of course, she wasn't too keen on having to hold a conversation with her. Yeah well, I'm not from around here.
Kalika looked around to see if there was anyone nearby, perhaps someone who could swoop in and halt the conversation before it got to far, but sadly, they were alone. Kalika.
It was said quickly and with a smooth haste only the most bothered individuals could handle. Indie was much too pompous for Kalika's tastes, and for a moment, she hoped that the sea would push out a wave big enough to carry them both under.
Oh, this one would be difficult. She was full of pomp and sass but didn’t know how to use it. It was clear from the girl’s speech that she was not an Indie fan. That's okay, not everyone was — but where was Kalika’s facade? Where was the gambit, the strategy? The least she could do was try — such blind candor would get this girl nowhere in life. Well, Indie vowed [right then] to teach her. “Oh, I see… you don’t like me.” the words snaked out from between her licorice lips. She could be brunt and honest too, if that’s what floated Kalika’s boat. Indie was a talented mummer; she could take any sort of social cue and bend it, twist it to her advantage. “That’s okay.” Melt it down to craft something completely new. “I get the feeling you don’t like a great many people.”
And now, the audience watches in awe as the magician takes this angsty shewolf, places a handkerchief over her, taps her with a wand and transfors her into an ally.
“Neither do I.”
Kalika didn't like the game which Indie was playing. It felt strange, having her words and thoughts evaluated as they were, no matter how slight the degree. I do like quite a few people, actually.
There was Akantha, as well as the consorts of the pack. There was also Meteora, Kalika's mentor in her Initiate rank. Her brow furrowed and creased as she struggled to think of more, though she chose to simply turn away when it became apparent that there weren't any names left to list. And I bet you don't have many fans, either.
What was it to Indie that Kalika preffered to be on her own? And what did it matter to Kalika who Indie did and did not like? She stood with a scoff and began walking away.
“Au contraire, mon joli fou” Indie trilled with her sibilant tongue, trotting behind the young siren. Indie’s strong, thick legs carried her quickly to Kalika’s side and Indie bumped her shoulder gently. “You attract more flies with honey than vinegar,” Indie suggested unsympathetically, with a strong sense of blasé intertwined with her words. In this girl wanted to play that angsty game, Indie would easily beat her at it. Indie could out-angst anyone. But she wouldn't, because Indie thought herself sweet and becoming and negativity did not suit her.
Suddenly, Indie felt a great sense of potential in this child. Such emotion could be, should be harnessed! Imagine the great things Kalika would be capable of, if she could only recognize opportunity when she saw it! Instead of spurning all others [which is all Indie had ever seen of this scrappy child], she would learn to art of rhetorical and shapeshifting and mirage — much in the way her own tutor had taught her these skills [but much without the romantic and passionate overtones]. Indie could see it now! Here was her chance.
“I could teach you. I could teach you a great many things.”
Kalika was skeptical, unsure of what to say next. She was frozen in contemplation, thinking of whether she should leave Indie alone with a snarl and a snap, or if she should go along with the offer proposed. She didn't particularly like the femme, but she knew that whatever charm she held, Kalika could surely benefit from it. And if I agree? What can you teach me, exactly?
Perhaps a bit of Sisterly advice wouldn't hurt, even if the Sister was a bit different from the others.
Kalika was not immediately turned off from the idea of a mentorship, which Indie considered a win.Young shewolves were a breed all their own, and beating them at their own game was nearly impossible — probably because they so staunchly refuted defeat. The vaudevillian saw this quality in Kalika when they met during the ice storm and knew it would be useful once she was able to harness such tenacity and mulishness. From what Indie had seen, the alabaster girl spat her venom at anyone and everyone who seemed to wrong her, without the ability to keep such fire concealed within. This, truly, seemed to be the norm for the Nereides sirens, but Kalika was still young and impressionable… and Indie could not resist the temptation. She purred, taking a slow, heavy step towards the smaller girl. “I could hone your quicksilver mind with even a quicker tongue, gosling ” her a hint of haughtiness danced upon suggestive tone, bright yet intimate. Indie felt as if she were Donovan, her own tutor. She felt his craftiness and all knowing-ness thump thump thump in her heart; mused that similar emotions may spring from her and Kalika’s potential relationship. “Show you how to use the wiles of men for your own advantage.” The tempest drew her chin in towards her chest and gave a low chuckle at the thought.
She continued. “A way to ensure that you live your own life, not the one that others thrust upon you.” Indie’s mouth clipped shut and her molten gaze burned against her student’s.
“That would interest you, yes?”
What do you want in return?
Sure, the offer sounded fine, but was it really? Kalika knew Indie's type, and she knew that there had to be some sort of exchange. The things which she was willing to give to Indie made for a quite extended list, though she would make no bargains until one was made by the other first. She looked over the dark femme, examining her posture and ability, before sitting back on her haunches in a trusting manner. Sure, Indie could easily attack Kalika in such a vulnerable spot, but she was confident that the likelyhood of such an event was negligible to test the waters.
The mummer was pleased that Kalika did not immediately rescind her interest. Indie had been a Donovan’s disciple nearly all her life and knew the benefits that such scholarly pursuits could yield. Had Indie not lucked into the Merry-Andrews [and that’s how she saw it: divine intervention], the veiled shewolf would be a shadow of the woman she was today. The racketeer, destined for greatness as he was, had shaped the dark woman from infancy, crafting and molding her in his vision. Indie was unblemished by the haphazard desires of wolves less skilled than she. Indie was never without strategy or intention, as Indie fully believed she could wheel and deal her way into [or out of] anything she wanted – and she would get what she wanted out of the small woman Kalika, even if it took some investiture on Indie’s part. Perhaps she and Donovan were more alike than they had ever imagined possible!
“I wish for you to teach me the way of the sirens,” Indie spoke honestly. It was the truth! Indie had spent some time with this group of Amazonians and genuinely enjoyed them. Indie did not wish to screw them over, but Indie had a deep and abiding lust for power and the title of Siren was sparkly, new and seemingly unattainable for an outsider – but Indie was determined to prove them all wrong. She could be more with the Nereides than she could ever be on her own.
“You were born of this culture, no? Alas… I was not, but I do wish to earn my place.”
Kalika was born into the culture, yes, but she wasn't raised in the same way Akantha or Meteora might have been. However, the details weren't important in answering Indie's question. I was. I can teach you in exchange for you teaching me, though I do recommend you learn our glóssa.
If this is what she wished, then learning to speak Greek would do nothing but aide her in the long run. Deal?
“Deal.”
Indie stalked towards Kalika and pulled up beside her, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, though Indie’s tall, atramentous frame seemed to minify Kalika’s own. Indie brushed her thick, silken tail over the small of the young girl’s back in an act of endearment — suddenly, any sense of annoyance stemming from the vaudevillian seemed to [suspiciously] evaporate. Were these feelings actually gone? Goodness no, for Indie would never not be annoyed by holier-than-thou youths with attitude too big for their bodies. But Indie knew better than to nourish such negative emotions [especially in light of their recent transaction] and masked her emotion under a papier-mâché facade of mentorship and all-knowing-ness.
Life was just one big masquerade ball, after all.
There would be work on Indie’s part of this deal, but that was fine with her — Indie was one of the hardest workers she had ever known, and if it took learning a new language and becoming the disciple of a new culture to climb the Nereides' ladder, then she would do it. It would likely be a challenge, though… Language had never been her forte [as her own lexicon did not follow any sense of customary connotation and proper grammar] most often her pursuits were of the physical or contingent sort; never the intellectual. That had be Donovan, had always been Donovan. Donovan had been the brains of the operation… but now, it was she.
Indie turned to look at Kalika beside her, golden eyes flashing. “Take some time and think of something you would like to achieve. Just one thing — it could be anything.” one, two, three steps were taken away from the young girl and Indie turned to make an unceremonious departure from their meeting. Better to leave her guessing.
“Call for me once you’ve decided. I’ll show you how to get it.”