Blackwater Islands over the waves peaceful at night

A narcissistic little thrill races down her spine when the lone female uses her official title, rather than her name. Akantha's smile grows, despite herself, and she draws in a breath before addressing the young woman—Aztec. "We respect the Mothers Sea and Moon above all else, because all she-wolves were made by their hands." Or so we're led to believe. A casual twist of her ear indicated she wasn't fond of preaching, so she quickly moved on. "Males, on the other hand, are made to serve us. They are our consorts and guards." 

"Rituals and offerings to the Mothers are important to us, but I don't expect newcomers to participate immediately. I simply require that you watch, learn, and do your best to emulate until you either understand or move on." Akantha leveled her with a piercing stare, her smile lingering but malignant. "But if you abandon us, you will not find shelter here again."