Come early morning, Akanthe was restless once again. The lake provided some comfort, but she yearned to be with Her again. Aktaiê's reason for waiting was sound, of course; she would never dispute this for the greater their number, the more likely their chances. But the prickle of wrongwrongwrong became more pronounced as they spent more nights idle. Being so far from Her was stifling and draining to the Amazon.
She rose abruptly from her bed, accidentally jostling a nearby wolf (likely Atlas, but she did not bother to check), and headed towards the creek. His presence had been, and continued to be, largely ignored. It was not she who gave him his test of loyalty, she was simply the unfortunate one who had to keep an eye on him. She understood why she was chosen: she could groom him in battle and keep him from wandering. He was almost as valuable as the Hoplite, Greyjoy, but she would not admit this.
Akanthe wades into the creek and follows it a little ways until it widens and slows. Here is where she stops and waits for the tell-tale flash of scale in the pale light of dawn.
Greyjoy had rarely slept on their journey, napping for only a few hours before rising to keep vigil over the Nereides he was sworn to protect. If anything happened to them on his watch, he would throw himself into the sea and take his chances with the Drowned God before risking living without them. His life was meaningless without the Sea, the Moon, and the Drowned One. Meaningless without Aktaiê.
It was early morning, the sun's warms rays barely kissing the horizon to the east, when a dark figure from their camp stirred. Moments later, he saw Atlas rise for his shift. Bumping his head against the male's shoulder, Greyjoy moved after the female, knowing that Atlas would be watched by the Nereides while he cared for the outlier. It was his duty to protect them. As soon as they were settled, he would train Atlas and any other males that joined them in the ways of the Drowned One, to serve and protect the Chosen of the Sea.
He found Akantha quickly, whom he recognized ahead, wading in the deep stillness of the nearest creek, her eyes trained upon the surface. Fishing. Instead of speaking, Greyjoy settled himself nearby, vivid orange eyes surveying the land, making sure she is protected even in this mundane task. He would not forgive himself if she suffered because of his absence.
Though she is almost completely focused at the task at hand, she does not ignore her immediate area. One inky ear swings backward, tuning in to the sound of footfall on dew-kissed grass as a wolf approaches. She is not concerned, and a casual glance back reveals that it is Greyjoy; not Atlas, for once. A small part of her is grateful for the change of scenery, so to speak, but this thought does not rise to reflect on her expression.
She returns her gaze to the waters and her body goes rigid as she spots a few curious trout swimming closer and closer. Akantha waits with baited breath and, when the moment is right, she strikes! Her teeth close around the smaller of the two and she quickly bites down, crunching through cartilage and bone, to end the frantic flopping of her quarry. The other fish darts away into deeper water, but she does not pursue it.
Akantha pulls herself out onto the bank, drops the fish at her feet, places a paw on the head, and begins to tear into the cool flesh with a satisfied growl. Her hazel eyes flicker to Greyjoy and she watches him as she eats. How good of him to have joined them; he is valuable, she thinks. Aktaie was truly blessed.
Greyjoy was content to sit upon the bank and stand guard while Akantha fished. As he sat, he contemplated the wolves he would come to train, both those who had followed, like Atlas, and those who were to come. He thought of the weakened pull of the Drowned God, whom he wished to honor with a sacrifice of blood on salt and sand. It would have to wait, however, for this lake shore where they camped was not the place for His rituals.
Akantha darted into the water and returned with a fish clamped between her teeth. Greyjoy watched as she pulled herself ashore, his belly grumbling slightly as she began to feast upon her catch. She glanced at him occasionally as she ate, though he was sure she was making sure of his presence as opposed to worried about it. After a few minutes, he stood and waded into the waters himself, to try his own paw at fishing. Now that she was suitably occupied, he could catch breakfast for himself and perhaps Aktaiê and Psamathe as well.
His approach took longer than hers. He stood nearly knee-deep in the creek, his orange eyes surveying the underwater currents for signs of flashing fins or scales. Then he lowered his open mouth into the river, keeping the rest of his body still as he did so, and waited. Minutes ticked by. Greyjoy felt a brave fish swim near him, but did not move yet. It was only until the fish seemed to think he was now part of their world, and multiple began swimming into his jaws, that he struck. Clamping down, he caught two fish by their tails, lifting his head with a glint of pride in his eyes.
He flung them on shore and returned to the water, this time making sure to hunt more quickly, Akantha's way. The water settled around his sturdy, stone-colored legs, and soon the fish returned. It did not take long for him to catch his own meal between his jaws this time, and when he waded ashore, Greyjoy was sure to eat away from Akantha, who still seemed to be nibbling on her own morsel.
After the first few bites of fish, she folds her hindlegs beneath her and sinks down onto the ground. Her attention drifts away from Greyjoy as a few bones become lodged in her teeth. With a huff she licks at her teeth with her jaws agape, only to spit out the bones and continue with her feast. The fish lacks the distinct taste of salt and brine, and instead is infused with all things leafy and earthen. It is not unpleasant, but certainly not her preference.
Her eyes snap back to the Hoplite as he takes his turn in the creek, but she does not rush to corral him away from the fishing hole with flashing teeth and angry snarls. He had not asked permission, nor had she demanded it. Instead her attention drifts between him, and her own fish, before the latter is soon forgotten in lieu of the spectacle before her. Akantha tilts her head, and observes him as he lies down in the creek; becoming a statue, as if he was always there. Had he tried this at home before now?
A few minutes pass, but it pays off and soon two fish are tossed onto the shore, followed by a third reserved for the hunter himself. The look of surprise on her face is quickly masked by neutrality again as he returns to the shore, and she turns away to strip another piece of flesh from the half-devoured fish. She speaks after she swallows, "That was strange. Who taught you how to fish like that? Surely it would not work in the waves." Her tone is borderline accusatory, but it is very obviously masking honest curiosity.
As he settled himself to eat, Akantha finally spoke, inquiring after his admittedly strange fishing technique. He placed the fish between he paws, nodded deeply toward her, and spoke, "Once I reached the rank of consort, an old eunuch taught me much of the ways of inland fishing, Μύστης Αγκάθι." With a pause, he thought back to that time in his life, many moon cycles ago. "He was not from the sea originally, though I believe he eventually came to love it as his home. He would take my consort group up the river a few times a month to practice."
Greyjoy could remember the old wolf, a grizzle old beast with sparkling green eyes, who liked to crack jokes and embarrass him. However fond his memories, the name of the eunuch escaped him just then. With a shake of his head, he finished, "I have used the technique in larger tide pools, though the sea fish are smarter than these, it seems." He then began picking into his meal, stripping away the scales with careful motions, taking bites of the flesh as it became exposed. Like Akantha, he did not prefer the taste of this inland fish, but it would sustain him until they return to their rightful place by the Sea.
Akantha snorts. "It is a miracle he did not accidentally drown the lot of you." The bite behind her tone is lacking, however, and she is still a moment before resuming her meal. She strips the last of the edible meat from the bone and rises to toss the remaining head and tail back into the creek. She never took without giving back; it was simply the way of things. The Amazon returns her attention to Greyjoy, eyes narrowed in thought as he removes the scales to take tiny bites. "The Sea herself is smarter than to wander absently into the waiting jaws of death, and she teaches this to her get."
She turns abruptly and heads back into the creek. This time she wades into the deeper reaches and pushes off the smooth bottom to dive completely beneath the crystalline waters. Akantha surfaces only a second later with a satisfied sigh and begins to swim in leisurely circles. "All this waiting—" She rumbles petulantly, loud enough for Greyjoy to hear. "We would be better suited waiting and resting with Her than at some lake in the middle of nowhere." The Amazon huffs, and blows air through her nose into the water with a burbling sound.
Greyjoy nodded quietly, continuing to eat his fish while she spoke. Akantha stood then, returning to the shore to give back the remaining bones, before taking a dip. "She is," he said with a nod, not seeing any reason to speak more on the matter. The Sea was much smarter than any creature beneath Her. Greyjoy watched Akantha dive beneath the waters and resurface, only to swim in lazy circles.
Akantha's words were somewhat blasphemous, if another siren had heard her speak them. Greyjoy understood her impatience, her eagerness to return to the Sea; he himself felt the same pull to return to the Drowned God, to smell the salt and taste it on the wind. But he did not say such things aloud. "We go where Aktaiê leads, when she deems it appropriate. We will soon reunite with the Mother Sea, Μύστης Αγκάθι."
Blasphemous and traitorous, true, but Akantha had always been an opinionated wolf with a bullheaded determination. She had no qualms about following Aktaie, but the idleness was eating away at her patience. There was no room for her to argue, however, because she was not gifted like her sister, nor a born leader like Aktaie. But voicing her impatience to Greyjoy was not beyond what was considered "allowed", considering she made the rules for each individual encounter with the consorts. He wasn't exactly good conversation, but it was nice to be away from Atlas for a few moments. Something about the tawny consort was stifling, and she couldn't put her paw on it.
"I know that Greyjoy, I just wish it were sooner. Our sisters know their way. It would do them no harm to walk a few more miles." She rumbles before drawing a breath and slipping beneath the waters. Akantha didn't usually use their names when referring to the males; it was a good indication of how uncertain she felt. When she surfaces again, she makes her way to the shallows and lays down to bask in the cool water.
The Amazon turns her nose to Greyjoy, "Do you hope she chooses you when we perform the Rites this season?" It was a rather invasive question, and from the look on her face, it was clear she knew it too.
Editing in an ending.
"As do I, Akantha." Greyjoy knew her impatience only too well; it was a physical pain to be parted from the sand and surf, only lessened with the knowledge of their fast-approaching journey's end. He hid a soft smile at her words in a bite of fish, which was his last. He stood and copied her movements, offering the remnants of the animal back to the water. He did not join Akantha in the depths, however; he simply took a sip of the refreshing liquid from the shore.
And nearly choked at her words.
With a cough, Greyjoy turned toward the adept and wondered at her brazenness. It was not unheard of for a matriarch to choose a hoplite, but it was usually the epivitoras that she chose during the rituals. There had been no talk of his rank changing, though of course Aktaiê would not speak to him of such things quite yet. They had not reached their destination, and of course their male numbers were small. He swallowed, taking a steadying breath before answering, "I had not thought to be honored this season, Adept. Of course, if it is Aktaiê's wish that I take part in her ritual, I shall consider it my sacred duty."
They spoke for a few minutes more, and then were called back to Aktaie's side at the first sign of dusk. Greyjoy wondered what would happen when the ritual approached, but shook it from his mind. It would be the Mother's choice, not his, and he would obey as he had been taught.