Wolf RPG

ooc: all welcome, set at The Tangle

ic: Pantaleimon preferred to stay close to the shores. She had travelled inland for some time before reaching the Sound, and now she liked to stay near it. Today, however, she travelled to a nearby territory that had caught Pantaleimon's interest. She had watched the crooked, spooky trees that loomed over the rocky pitfall territory for some time before approaching. Pantaleimon waited at its edge, looking over the field with white ears perked forth and dull, silver eyes staring out over the territory.

Pantaleimon knew there had been a fight between Ankyra Sound and a nearby pack, where one of their own had perished, and so Pantaleimon did not think it wise to enter a place where one needed to sure footing, lest she be surprised by one of the Sound's enemies. Instead, Pantaleimon sat at the end, head and neck bent in natural subordinance while she sat and stared out across the fields, admiring the view and wondering if inland knew treasure like the ocean did, that would look good on her fur.

She hadn't wanted to wander far, but neither could she bear to be tied to the territory Tezca claimed as home.  At least in travel she could lose herself in the mission rather than going stir-crazy upon that awful glacier.  She knew he did not want her hovering after their fight, and she knew he wasn't stupid enough to let himself die of injuries already recieved.  So long as trouble stayed away, he would be fine, and the amazing really wasn't the hovering type.

Instead she walked towards the coast, her thoughts on the dark faced witch.  The battle had been brief and fierce,yet she was distinctive enough that Manauia had recalled.  truly she was a woman of lies, though the Amazon cared little.  She did hope they tried again, she missed the rush of battle.

There was another nearby, and at first she ignored her.  But then the scent brought her round, and her lips lifted in a somewhat wicked smile.

"You are one of the cowards from the sea."  She did not come much closer, but instead held her distance, mirth behind the tone as she said the words.

Pantaleimon stared out over the Tangle, intrigued by the way it was built, but was swiftly reminded of why she had not gone in by a voice. The voice female, Pantaleimon instinctively lowered her head and tucked her tail between her hind legs in appropriate submission, before realising that the wolf did not belong to Ankyra Sound. Nevertheless, as male Consort, Pantaleimon kept the appropriate respect, not sure how other cultures worked, but staying on the safe side, particularly due to the sharp edge that the female's words held.

"Uhm..." Pantaleimon awkwardly looked at the female from the corner of her eyes (glad that she kept her distance so she was less terrifying), silently admitting to being a coward, and choked out a quiet, "S-sorry." Pantaleimon was not certain what it was that she was sorry for, but the many mistakes she had made in early life -- when she still believed she could be a Siren and was not so aware of what atrocity she was just yet -- had built up a defense mechanism of submission and admission of guilt that kicked in instinctively.

The male slipped so flawlessly into submission that for a moment, Manauia was thrown.  It was such a slave posture and instinct that it reminded her of home... and the instant it did, she grew angry.  How could she allow this outsider to taint her perspective like that?  It was nice to be shown the proper respect and to finally see a male who acted as their station, but it gave her a stab of homesickness that was neither welcome nor well-received.

She curled a lip.  "You admit to it.  That is good.  At least you do not deny the obvious.  Your pack... what is it?"  The question was brusque, curt, addressed as a warrior speaking to a slave.  As though an answer was expected and demanded, not requested.  It was a mannerism she slipped into naturally, a response to his obvious deference.

Pantaleimon was rather confused when the female said that at least Pantaleimon admitted to it. What had she admitted to be sorry for, exactly? Pan didn't even know, so how could the dominant female know? Growing more nervous because she was unsure what they were talking about, Pantaleimon welcomed the question that followed regarding her pack; at least that was something she knew how to talk about, even if she would have preferred to do it in a more comfortable setting.

"I, uhm... A-Ankyra Sound," Pan stammered uncertainly, and she briefly looked up to see if it pleased the female or not. "Where, uhm... Wh-where the Sirens live." Maybe that clarified a thing or two, although Pantaleimon had the feeling that this was all information that the female might already know; she already knew that Pantaleimon belonged to the sea-pack, after all.

Timid little thing, wasn't he?  Even the slaves of her homeplace were not this cowed, for a slave with no spine was almost as useless as one without respect.  They should stand tall... just beneath those who rightfully ruled over them.  Courage and aggressiveness should be present, but only to further the cause of the Amazonians.  These 'sirens' were obviously lax.

"Indeed."  If he was looking for approval, he would see no trace from her, though she showed no displeasure either.  "And what is your rank, then, amongst these 'Sirens' you speak of?"  She had an inkling, but wished to ensure.  Nereides, the youth had told her when she had asked so long ago.  Not Sirens, nor Ankyra Sound.  She could be sure of nothing right now.

She continued to ask questions, although Pantaleimon did not feel much like answering them. Why would she? Yet something deep inside of Pan made her want to oblige; not the discipline of the Sirens, not the obeying of females, for this one did not stand above Pan... It was something deeper; Pantaleimon wished to oblige because there was something deep inside of her that just wanted to please others, that wanted to be liked, and, perhaps, a part that was too cowardice to say no.

"Uhm, none," Pantaleimon mumbled, much to her own pain and disgrace. Pantaleimon would stand beside them, proud and tall, had she been born a Siren, a female... But she had not, and so she deserved nothing. "I'm only a c-consort." Pan looked away then, the pain vivid on her face -- for Pantaleimon wore her emotions on her sleeve, unable to hide them.

Only a consort.  So they were enlightened on some levels, keeping males in their proper rung and in roles best suited to them.  Though the consort's words did not imply all males were kept as such, the existence of such a rank showed a feminine dominance that was familiar to the Amazon.  His seeming reluctance at this fact, though, was new.

"This role does not please you?  Are you not happy to serve?"  Her keen eyes studied Pantaleimon's features, and the emotions that lay plainly upon them.  In the rise consorts reveled in their ability to please their mistresses, striving for the approval and praise of the warriors and accepting their role in life gladly.  That this one did not made Manauia wonder if perhaps they treated their consorts badly... something that made her frown with disgust.  She was not fond of males, less fond than some perhaps, but all life was sacred and should be treated as such.  Just because some were worth more than others did not give cause for those with worth to badly treat those without.

When the stranger suggested that Pantaleimon did not enjoy her role as Consort, which was true, Pantaleimon quickly and violently shook her head. "No! Uhm..." Pantaleimon did not know how to explain, and wished that she had some way of doing so; but she did not. Not without giving away too much of herself. In Pan's experience giving too much information, especially about delicate issues, was a dangerous thing.

"I'm happy," Pan mumbled, though it was clear that she was not -- it was not that she looked utterly unhappy, but it pained her to think that she would never be able to take the place that had always felt rightfully hers, from birth, as Siren. "J-just some days it would be easier to be - if I - I was more like the Sirens." And she was; except for this one difficulty. Pan grew more uncomfortable by the moment, and she realised she could not stay much longer, lest she accidentally say something to make the Sirens appear poorly in the eyes of this stranger.

"I must go," Pantaleimon resolutely said, and she offered an awkward, pained nod before she turned tail and started to run towards Ankyra Sound, wishing she had left a better impression upon the Duskfire Glacier wolf than she had.

Manauia continued to study him as he backpedaled - and did so rather unconvincingly. That he showed a streak of loyalty was good, but she still had some major doubts as to the credibility of his 'sirens' if they allowed him to hold such doubts about his serving. It was clear he wasn't content, and he truly had shown more than he should have (or would have been tolerated to by her own group.) Issues between slaves and amazonians were to be handled internally, as displays such as he had just shown could be seen as dissention and resulting weakness in lack of unity.

She did not think on it long, though, as he swiftly turned tail and took off towards, as she assumed it, home. Making a mental note of the direction he went, she offered no parting words, and instead watched a moment before turning to depart opposite.