Wolf RPG

She had returned to the others after her encounter with the young female, coming back to rest for only a few hours before dusk began to settle over the lands. Like most of her kin, Aktaiê preferred moonlight over the heat of the sun — particularly when traveling. Mother Moon was only a sliver in the night sky, but the light that She provided was still a comfort. They were far from the embrace of their sacred mother, but they at least had the energy and light of the moon to guide them.

Greyjoy nosed her awake when his watch was done, and she bared her teeth at him in warning. It mattered little that she had asked him to wake her; he would know better than to expect any thanks from a siren. In turn, Aktaiê woke Psamathe. "There is a creek nearby," she told them, "and a lake in the distance. We should investigate; something tells me our journey will be over soon." Freshwater was no ocean, but like the rain and her own blood, it originated from the Sea. That there was so much water in this particular land seemed to be a blessing in Aktaiê's mind; but unlike Psamathe, her devotion came from things she could feel and see and touch. It would be the Adept, with a gift for scrying, that would be able to divine the meaning behind the priestess' instinct.

The trio journeyed in silence as darkness swelled, the last hints of sunlight now hidden behind the curtain of stars. They were all weary, a month into their journey, and perhaps still groggy from their rest. Still, there was no awkwardness in that quiet; they each knew their purpose, and each believed in their cause. It was not the first silence that would span between them, nor would it be the last.

When they reached the lakeshore, Aktaiê felt the breath catch in her throat. It was so vast, she might have mistaken it for the Sea if she had not known the deity's nature so intimately. It was no ocean, but it reminded her of home. Feeling the heat of tears burn her bright eyes and a tightness in her chest, the priestess quickly leaned her head to the shallows and drank deeply, willing the faint touch of her Mother to fill her with strength.

They had been too long from the Mother Sea. Even Mother Moon, diminished as She was in the sky, could not comfort the Adept. Whenever she was away from the familiarity of Her, she felt a tightening in her chest. Her blood seemed to run sluggish, and her energy seemed sapped. Panic sometimes overwhelmed her, and in these moments, she sought puddles to gaze into. Puddles were murky, however, and revealed nothing of their quest nor their Mother, though they gave her some small comfort, for they were a small piece of the Mother Sea.

When Aktaiê had given the command to rest, Psamathe had complied willingly, sinking to her stomach in the embrace of cool grasses. Greyjoy might have come near, but if he had, the Nereides had turned away from the Hoplite scornfully, paying him no heed. She looked within herself in the hours since the High Priestess' departure, reminding herself that the Sea and Moon were a part of her blood as well. She spent hours in silence, sometimes gazing into the distance and sometimes pacing in search of water and answers.

Aktaiê returned shortly before dusk fell, and Psamathe greeted her with typical whines and expectations of reassurance. That there was a creek and a lake bode well for the Nereides travelling party. They rested for some time before they awoke under the Mother Moon's watch, and though it was Aktaiê who woke her, Psamathe nevertheless grumbled a snarl at Greyjoy before they set off.

They moved silently, the two females leading the consort as their ranks befit. The lake soon loomed before them, gargantuan but nothing in comparison to the Mother Sea. Psamathe felt the tight sensation of her chest loosen some, and joyfully loped toward the water. The closer she got, the more she could feel their Mother's presence. She paused beside it, not daring to bend for a drink until Aktaiê had done so herself.

When she lifted her head with snout dripping, the female twisted her ears toward the High Priestess and said, “We are near. Can you feel Her resonating from the water?” As she said it, her voice grew reverent, as it always did when the nymph spoke of the Sea. “North, we must go north. I can feel Her call from the north.” She would gaze into the water when they took time to rest again, and hopefully discover clues about the place the Sea and Moon guided them to.

I have a brief moment before I have to skeedadle, so here you are! <3

Their journey had not been necessarily arduous, but it had not been easy, either. Greyjoy could feel the tug of the Drowned God weaken with every stride they took away from the sea. They had stopped to rest in a valley that teemed with the scents of others, setting his hackles on edge. Greyjoy had been trained in battle and knew that with so many others around, the Nereides he protected would not be safe until they were once again reunited with the Mother.

They stopped for rest, Aktaiê scouting ahead for what glimpse she could see of their destination. Greyjoy stood watch over Psamathe as she dozed and daydreamed in turn, never wavering in his vigil. Vivid orange eyes surveyed the landscape around them, the streams and creeks seeming to grow wider as they flowed eastward. Aktaiê returned and gave him commands to wake her, which he did to a show of teeth.

Aktaiê was wise to wake her kinswoman herself. Psamathe did not like Greyjoy, though no Nereides truly liked a male, though he had enjoyed some small comforts of his station. As a hoplite, he was considered strong enough to protect the sirens, strong enough to gather more men for their rituals, strong enough to enjoy rituals of his own, when time allowed. Their furtive glances and bared teeth were part and parcel of his devotion.

They spoke, and Psamathe, their Seer, indicated they should go north. Greyjoy stood sentinel, eyes trained against the world they found themselves in, ears turned back to listen to their words. Aktaiê knew he would follow her anywhere, as he had done countless times from their childhood to the present, and would continue to do so until his dying day.

She exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, this time unable to stop the tightness in her throat or the burning in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice trembled and fell no louder than a whisper, "Ευχαριστώ οι μητέρες." With her instincts confirmed by her talented sister, Aktaiê did not fear showing such vulnerability before her companions; she was sure they felt the same. They had been too long from the Sea, and she yearned to hear the crashing waves and cries of gulls once again.

"We will rest here," the priestess commanded, her voice steadier, though not harsh. "She reaches to us, now, and seeks to strengthen us before we return to Her embrace." Aktaiê could feel this, too; an instinct that told her to make camp before they continued on. Their journey to this point had not been easy, and she had commanded a swift pace. It would do them all well to rest their paws, fill their bellies, still their fears. When it was time to go north to the Sea, they would be worthy of Her.

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“Ευχαριστώ οι μητέρες,” Psamathe repeated in a voice tremulous with relief. The Nereides Adept had never once doubted they would find the Mother Sea again, so in tune with She were Her disciples, but there had been moments of despair on their journey when they were far from the pulsing tides. To feel Her wash over them and renew them would be a welcome thing for the young scryer.

Aktaiê commanded that they remain at this lake. Though Psamathe's throat threatened to tighten with new emotion and her younger heart beat faster in brief defiance, it was snuffed out when she remembered her beloved Mothers and how they could not return to Them in a state of weariness and exhaustion. They would need to make preparations immediately for the newest branch of the Nereides family, and they were not worthy to do so in the sight of Sea and Moon until they were fully strengthened once more.

“You are right, αδελφή. We must be strong when we return to Her, that we may build for Her a noble sisterhood,” Psamathe agreed with Aktaiê's unspoken sentiment. Somewhere nearby, Greyjoy stood vigilant, but she paid him no heed, as she always had.

"Και χάρη στο πνιγμένος ένα," he whispered in response to their thanks, giving his own in honor of the male counterpart of the Mother Sea, the goddess to which the Nereides longed to return. Greyjoy may have been a hoplite, a soldier deemed worthy enough to protect and serve on this momentous journey, but he was also a devout follower of the Mother and the Drowned One she had chosen many hundreds of moons ago to be Her first servant. The Orkwood hoplite was eager to find himself near the sea again, to feel the sand beneath his toes, as much as the Nereides were.

Their conversation was lost to him momentarily as he trained upon a sound in the distance, but as he watched, a fox appeared and turned in a different direction. Greyjoy watched it disappear as he turned an ear back toward Aktaiê, catching her words and Psamathe's reply. At this he turned and bowed to both women. "I shall do as you command, High Priestess." He also nodded deeply toward Psamathe, including her in his devotion. He had protected her this far, and he would continue to protect her as long as Aktaiê commanded it. Then, he returned his attention to their surroundings, letting the Nereides discuss and make decisions. He would be here if needed, but he was sure they would not seek his approval, since they never had before. As was only right.

Her thin ears flicked distastefully back when Greyjoy muttered, but she remained formal and polite as ever and said nothing. Aktaiê demanded her attention, anyway, drawing the Adept away from the consort like a direct summons from the Sea Herself. “No, sister,” she wearily admitted, “not yet.” Psamathe should have been, but being away from her Mother was enough to quell her appetite almost completely.

Soon, she would feast on the bounty of the sea with her sisters, but presently, the thought of lake fare made her more nauseous than anything.

Since he's kind of a lame duck, this will be short. <3

Greyjoy knew that his place among the Nereides was sacred. Not many men were privileged or indeed trusted enough to be kept in close quarters with such powerful women as these. Aktaiê was the future Matriarch of their group and Psamathe was their Scryer, two women whose destiny and safekeeping rested within his capable paws. The Drowned God knew he would walk into the sea's surf if he failed in his duty, for living without them would be hell on earth.

<3<3

She feigned indifference for the male so well that even she believed it, but his presence was a comfort Aktaiê would never admit. Particularly now, when they were scattered so far from the birthplace of all their sisters, it was good to have familiar wolves about. It would be sacrilege to admit any fondness for the consorts beyond their necessity, and so whatever feelings the female might have harbored lay so deeply buried within her heart that even she could not find it.

"Psamathe," she murmured gently, turquoise eyes moving over her younger sister fondly, "you must eat. They do not carry Her salt in their scales, but fish must still be an improvement over red meat."

A wry smile stretched the thin skin of her lips, but the humour didn't reach her eyes, so tired and drained were they. She looked on the lake and felt buoyed by the Sea's presence, minor as it was, but it was a small comfort. They still had miles to travel, and would be longer without their Mothers. By the end of this night, the Mother Moon would depart them as well, and Psamathe would feel lost, as she had on every new moon.

“I will soon, αδελφή. For now, I wish to rest.” To add a note of mild-mannered finality to this desire, Psamathe slowly let herself fall to the damp earth at the lake's edge. Her eyes danced over mossy soil before turning back up to the matriarch. “What will you do?”

Aktaiê nodded, a soft smile upon her lips as Psamathe sank to lay down on the lake's shore. Despite herself, the priestess found herself stretching elegantly, though she did not give in to the desire to lay on her side and sleep; they would stay here long enough for her to receive the rest she needed, certainly, but for now there was other work to be done.

"Even here, there is much to do, I think," she told her sister. "If our journey ends even miles from this place, we should not be unfamiliar." It might be a week's travel, but this lake would be in their neighborhood; it would be wise to know it. "I will return; Greyjoy, protect her as she rests."

Aktaiê nuzzled along her sister's cheek affectionately, ignoring any protest against the command that Greyjoy remain as sentinel, then turned and began her investigation of the territories surrounding the water.