Ankyra Sound give me more

for @Hemithea!

As she wandered the sprawling reach of Ankyra Sound, she began to wonder: what if a pack attempted to settle here again like before? They would be cut off from the mainland and though that wasn't necissarily a bad thing, the logistics were not in their favor. If another winter like this one happened again, they might need to seek shelter in the caverns of the Sound. She hadn't yet found anything like what they'd had in Themiscrya on the Islands; large, sweeping caverns suitabe for dozens of wolves at once and well removed from the weather. They lacked the strength to hold both territories, but she knew she would make a big show of it regardless.

Akantha squatted near an old bleached log and urinated to mark the spot. She kicked at the ground with her back feet, digging deep grooves in the sand to further spread the smell. This was her land now and she dared any would-be settler to challenge her reign. The Matriarch regarded the cliffs with a hawkish stare before starting on down the beach again with her nose lowered to the tide-damp sands.

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Being alone wasn't so bad. After numerous encounters with the odd wolf here or there, Hemithea was reminded as to why she had abandoned her people to begin with; she relished the moments she found herself completely alone, left to her own devices. She told herself that everything was better this way — but she knew, deep down in the pit of her icy heart, that she was lying to herself.

Her foray to Turtle Island hadn't been forgotten. She had made her way back to the mainland eventually and then wormed her route northward. The woman only stopped when she caught the scent of wolf upon the wind again; this time she made a point to avoid it, and ventured alongside the cliffs. When she discovered a strange tunnel, she gave the sea a nervous glance (as if asking the Mother for guidance) and then with a scoff, plunged in to the dark.

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Akantha, too, spotted the cavern among the cliffs and deviated her path to investigate it. She hadn't caught wind of Hemithea, yet, and was under the assumption that she was alone out here. But when she drew close she could see the prints in the sand, and the fresh musk that was clearly wolf upon the floor leading inside. Akantha's hackles bristled but she reminded herself that this was neutral territory, and loners could come and go as they wished here. That didn't mean she had to like it.

The Matriarch swept into the tunnel with her ears cupped towards the interior, and nose flared to follow the scent. She moved slowly—her eyes flickered to each dusky corner, but her vision was turning more useless the further she ventured into the cave. "Hello?" She called out, chosing to risk advertising her position for a chance at finding out who lived here.

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The history of the cave — being the home of a cranky sea witch — may have been hidden within its depths. Perhaps the walls held stories that, with scrutiny, Hemithea could decypher; alas, she was oblivious. The interest she held was slim to begin with, as the cave would serve as a hiding place more than anything else. There didn't appear to be anything living within it at this point, which made it safe.

But soon enough the scent of wolf grew thick within the dark. The silver girl - now tarnished by the shadows and made to look as if she were pure slate, perhaps turned to stone by the glare of the sea just outside - lurked beyond view of the oncoming wolf. When the stranger spoke, Hemithea was cognizant of the voice; she turned to look upon the stranger and to study her, finding traces of familiarity in their accent, but was met with only the dark.

είστε καταπάτηση, she fibbed, slinking along the edge of the room. The sound of her thin coat dragging ever so slightly along the sandstone was like a whisper. Choosing to remain mysterious (and figuring this was another foreigner like the many others she'd met in her travels), Hemithea's droning voice carried through the cavern with an ominous air: γιατί έχετε έρθει?

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A kiss of fur against the sandstone walls of the cave was the only tell that there was still someone here. Whomever had passed beyond the threshold before her still lurked in the shadows just beyond the range of her vision. Akantha cupped her ears and traced the sound with her eyes, pivoting her body slowly to face it with each new sound. There was a rasp of snow-chapped paws against the ground followed by a voice that spoke in the language of her people. Akantha froze, and she flexed her paws against the stone to test her grip. 

She took a tenative step further into the cave and lifted her tail in a graceful arc above her back. The Siren Matriarch breathed in and replied in a clear voice: "To find you." There was no fear in her voice, though the wolf that lurked in the shadows promised consequence for her actions. She welcomed it if only to prove her worth. Akantha settled her chin, covering her throat, and continued with a softer tone. "You know our language. How?" She asked the shadows, eyes still searching the darkness for signs of movement.

The Amazon shifted, and her claws scraped against the stone.

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Where Hemithea's tone resembled the brooding, tempestuous sounds of a snake on the vine, the stranger's words were more commanding, more self-assured. They were quick to point out the obvious and to demand answers. Hemithea allowed a tiny smile to flit across her darkened face, and for a split second the yellow of her teeth was present in the murk. She licked her nose and banished all expression, stifling her desire to play up her role even further — there was no way to know what to expect from this stranger, and she was not eager to push her luck.

η θάλασσα είναι η μητέρα μας, droned the girl in an attempt to remain mysterious. She did not advance further out of the dark, and began to pace from one wall to the other, feeling intensely pleased by the confusion wrought upon Akantha's face. Had she known she was speaking to a future matriarch perhaps she would have been more nervous, less keen to play games — but this was too good a moment to pass up. Αυτό είναι ναό της. Γιατί ήρθες


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Akantha did not fear the leviathan that lurked in the dark recesses of the cavern. She'd faced far more dangerous demons than the serpent the wolf promised to be with her silver-kissed tongue, and would not be cowed by promises of punishment woven into the words echoing against the sandstone. Her atonement would be answered by the Sea—no other creature of the world had that right. A glint of light across saliva-slick teeth drew her attention, but they vanished behind inky lips and blended into the shadows once again.

This is her temple, why have you come?

"I am Her listener and Her speaker." She revealed with a lash of her tail. The plume cut horizontally through the air once and she took another few steps foward, head raised against the dark, daring the other to challenge her right. "If you are truly her appointed Guardian, step forward and make yourself known to me, Akantha of Themiscrya, Matriarch of the Nereides." She did not know who lurked in the darkness. Perhaps it was a remnant of a bygone time; perhaps it was, indeed, Caiaphais still holding fast to her beloved haunt.

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To say she wasn't taken by surprise by the introduction would have been a lie. On one hand Hemithea knew of the Nereides' growing numbers along this coast, having met with Kalika and her drudge in previous days, but to be faced with the matriarch of this newest branch was a startling development. The girl wasn't sure what to do. She could not keep the ruse going for long — primarily because being a dick to the queen was not a good choice regardless of her situation — but at the same time Hemithea wasn't ready to be found out for her crimes. Finding herself alone with Akantha, this individual tied to intrinsically to both the Sea and Themiscrya, made the girl's anxiety spike horrifically.

She came forward without another word. Her movements were less calculated and more purposeful, and she canted her head and gaze away from the woman, deferring to her instantly - like a child caught by an elder (or a street urchin in the company of royalty). Hopefully Akantha would not recognize her from the coast. It was hard to know which adults had known her mother, or sister, or had cared for her while she herself was raised.

I am.. Hemithea, she announced in a way that was almost shy, much more meek than her previously puzzling and enticing mannerisms. She had thought to give a false name, but her own came too easily to her lips. Daughter of Chrysothemis, out of Themiscrya.



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The creature that emerged from the darkness was no ghost, nor spirt sent to test Akantha, but a familiar face that sent a chill racing up the Matriarch's spine that no unearthy thing could. Her hazel eyes narrowed as the shadows pulled back to reveal the pale, youthful face of the once-resident of Themiscrya. Some back on the Coast would gossip, and claim there was a tale to tell about what really happened that day. Akantha, too had heard the stories of a failed hunt that left a Sister dead. But what she could not understand was why they needed to lose both on account of it. 

Her ears peaked atop her head and she glared, teeth bared in silent disatisfaction at Hemithea despite the younger woman's subsequent deference upon revealing her true self. The shift in her mannerisums and voice was almost shocking to Akantha, but she knew it was all just to appease her after her foolishness. "Sister of Parthenos—yes, I know." The Matriarch rumbled ominously but revealing little of her feelings on the subject. "Slunk away from your duties to Themiscrya to play games with strangers in caverns? Is this really how low you've fallen?" She remarked, sounding almost disappointed. Akantha lowered her tail but kept her eyes fixated on Hemithea's own, almost daring the younger Nereid to look her way. 

Akantha sighed. "Why are you here, Hemithea?" She asked. Her demeanor was stiff, but her eyes softened slightly. She struggled to treat her Sisters with anything but respect, even if the situation demanded it.

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The woman recognized her. How foolish then, that she played such a dangerous game.

When Akantha responded, even before her words fully registered within the vagabond's ears, Hemithea was shrinking back from her. Looking away. Tensing. Whatever hope she had of forging a new life here had probably gone up in smoke. Then, the question — and a flash of fangs.

At first Hemithea was too riled by the response to speak clearly; she was agitated, her tail lashing her hocks in rhythmic beats while she composed herself. Surely if Akantha knew of her, of Parthenos, she knew of the rest -- and the question therefore, became something malignant.

I did not slink, she corrected as smoothly as she could, yet there was a slight tremble in Hemithea's voice, a touch of haughty agitation. She breathed a deep inhalation of salt-laden air, eased it out through her nose, and then with her eyes closing for a moment of tired thought, added: I know what my sisters think of me, what they whisper. I could not take the mischief. I... I chose to leave. Let the Mother call to me then! If She should want me, then... then.. but she had nothing left to say, nothing she could control.

Hemithea was left to sink back in to the dark, and she clamped her mouth shut, pouting in the grey not unlike a slighted child.

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A pang of something resembling pity was the only thing that saved Hemithea from the Matriarch's teeth. She didn't appreciate the agitated response, but also understood exactly where it was born from so she refrained from reprimanding the younger woman further. Instead she settled back on her heels and allowed herself to calm despite being torn between disciplining Hemithea and drawing her into a comforting embrace. Themiscrya was a cold, bitter place with ancient traditions, and heavy expectations. Akantha knew it well; she knew the scorn, and the chatter. 

So she frowned. "The Mother would never forsake her children." She murmured with a change of tone. Gone was the scathing remarks and the disappointed glare. Akantha sighed. "I won't judge you for your past. Misdeeds or not, I don't know the story and I don't want the truth." She remarked firmly to the enigmatic girl, cloaked in the thick shadows of the cavern, and lashed her tongue across her lips, tasting salt. "I honestly don't care," she admitted, "as long as you pull your weight, and respect the outsiders trying to connect with our culture."

"We could use you. I won't beg, but we lost most of the ones who came with Meteora." Akantha revealed with a nervous twitch of her tail.

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There was a lot she expected, but not the kindness imparted to her by the matriarch. Beyond finding it so surprising (as she anticipated disappointment maybe, or chastisement, maybe some mothering for her tantrum), she found herself to be undeserving of it. Nobody knew of the impact the event had on Hemithea; perhaps not even Hemithea herself, but certainly not the rest of her sisters. That they spread rumors about her vile spirit, about the Mother abandoning her, only served to sever her connection to the rest of them.

And then there was Akantha. Her open admittance - putting what was in the past to rest, for she cared little for what Hemithea's past was comprised of - lifted some of the weight off of the girl's shoulders.

She watched the cavern floor with her angry-sea-blue gaze; they were black like pits with the shadows cast around the pair of them. Then, with a sigh, she stated: Alright. If she was to survive then why not do it under Akantha's reign? Perhaps Hemithea could make a name for herself here — start over. It was worth a shot.

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The bitterness that lingered within the soft gray girl was kindred to the unease Akantha often felt wandering the reaches of Themiscrya after her return. To this day she could not remember what happened to her—her memory of those few months had never returned, and there was no indication anything had happened at all! But there were always the ones who blamed her for abandoning Ankyra, and that the blame lay solely upon her shoulders. She knew how ruthless the Sirens were, and so that was why she took pity upon Hemithea now.

"I'll rank you as Initiate for now, but it is not out of disrespect to you. I know you've been trained, I simply need to see it." Akantha replied. She turned now to the light of the outside world, and motioned for the wayward woman to join her.

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Hemithea had nothing else she could say which fit the moment, and was silent instead. She heard what Akantha had said - about her taking an Initiate position - and was unphased; if anything, being given a lesser position was yet another gift that she was undeserving of. It meant she had to prove herself of course, but also granted her less responsibility, and a more open role among the sisters. Her next thought was to thank the matriarch — yet this too seemed inadequate to Hemithea. If anything, she would thank the queen by making herself a useful member of the coven.

She did, however, slink out of the grotto and align herself physically with Akantha. She would allow herself to be herded out of the dark and in to the light, to where the sea sat waiting; beyond that were the islands that would become their home — it would be a long journey, but Hemithea was ready for it.

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