Sea Lion Shores calling the inquisition

for @Orochi & @Valyri

This time, she allows her queen to lead the way as they inspect the areas surrounding their chosen home. It'd been her idea to press further ahead, but she hadn't felt comfortable doing so without the High Priestess, knowing she is her shield against the world. For awhile, she's content to discreetly watch the sway of the warden-queens hips as she walks, ears tilting in all directions as she listens for any sign of nearby life.
What she hears is distant, hardly worth any concern — yet she eventually grows restless all the same. By your leave, Your Grace, She murmurs playfully as she speeds up to pass Valyri, making private mockery of the custom she follows in the presence of others. The culture of royalty has always amused her, and though she takes it quite seriously when her queen's reputation is at stake, she always finds herself falling back into old habits when they're alone. She savors the freedom, knowing it won't last; soon there will be others, followers who will need the image of a queen to inspire them; Nefris must take care to play her own part well, small as it is. No snark, no m'ladys, no fun. Just work and fancy words. She snorts as she presses further ahead, glancing back toward Valyri's shrinking figure before her nose dips toward the ground.

It was about time he pay another visit to his beach. It's been a few days since he had the chance to go and mark it. He'd be quick about it today; he had a lot of training to do. 

As he marked whatever shrubbery he could find, he kept an eye out for any beast carcasses lying around. He was starting to think the previous sign was a miracle and those things wouldn't go down without a fight. Still, a boy can dream. 

Rather than finding any food, he finds a woman waltzing around on his turf. Hey! he yelled as he made his way towards them. You dumbass! What the hell do you think you're doing on my beach?

She marches on with featherlight touches, heels not digging into the sand, merely grazing overtop with each step. The idea to adventure forth is wise for more marks than her pull towards nature, for there are certainly others that lurk around. The Wilds cannot be empty save the two of them, and crawling throughout during their journey here there’d been hints of packs and wolves.
More excuses, too, to act freely with her Champion who teases her so. A huff escapes Valyri while Nefris darts ahead. Swift on her feet even in the sands that seek to consume any whole. She picks up her pace, dancing forth akin to a springly doe, except with the confidence of a lioness on the hunt.
Yet curious enough, what they seek finds them first. The stage is shut down. The curtain falls, and with it, Valyri becomes the High Priestess. Nefris postures, on-guard and certainly unamused by the attitude thrown her way. The High Priestess strides forth, slowing until she stands a step before her Champion—giving such a subtle gesture towards her.
Pardon us, lord of this beach, she gives a slight bow of her muzzle, though keeps her head held high. Half-lidded purple gaze observes the youngling. We mean’t any harm, mere merchants on the look out for others to trade with. You would not happen to be interested, would you?
Else we will be on our way, and off of your beach.