The Sentinels the salty seas behind the eyes

Akantha knew just how precisely her spear had struck into the depths of Indie's heart when the enigmatic woman sighed wistfully upon the conclusion of the Nereides culture-in-a-nutshell sermon, and smiled to both the swarthy woman and at her own play. She was not fond of speaking, but was glad when the few times she did chose to be winded ended up being fruitful. The Matriarch gave the other what little privacy she could offer by returning her attention to the path, keeping an ear trained on the other, but otherwise leaving Indie to withdraw momentarily and ruminate on the information.

The pair passed through the meadow and returned to the ruined wood, passing beneath the wreckage of the former glory like travelers treading through ancient remnants of stone age towns. She would occasionally swing her head around to look around—to make sure they were not being shadowed by unseemly rogues, or curious vagabonds. She was soothed, queerly, by the sheer emptiness of the scorched woodland. A void had opened up and swallowed up all joy, all light, and discarded the remains as a memoir of the earth's fury.

Indie returned to her, though she hadn't truly left physically, and brought a question to the table Akantha hadn't anticipated. Her eyes went a bit wide before she gained full control of her reaction, and allowed herself to open just that much more to Indie. There was no harm in the truth, even if it was only harbored in the relaxed lines of her usually terse expression. She was glad to be trusted in this, though she still harbored doubts about her capability of rising to the challenge. Still, this was a good a place as any to start. "Yes," She replied firmly, with a sure nod. "I would be happy to continue your training, personally." Indie was not the only one who required her attention in such matters, but she was the first to request it. 

She had a faith in the woman and hoped, almost desperately, that it was not misplaced.