Dragoncrest Cliffs Oh how the moon glows

Eske is nearby when the howl rises up. The Fleimkepa wastes no time minimizing the distance between where the stranger’s call has risen and where she has been; her pace only slowing as she approaches the scene. A quick scan of the stretch of borders tell her that she has beaten Dio here though the Drakru wonders if perhaps that is a good thing. She cannot remember the last time she has actually held a conversation with the Wocha ( if ever ) and Shalon’s questioning from the other day — of why Heda chose her and not the pre-established leader — has offered Eske a new perceptive ( and potentially a new thing to worry over ). For the moment, she turns her thoughts from it as her sea blue-green gaze takes in the ebony male whom awaits at the borders. Her tail curls over her back to signify that she is command here; but interestingly she is absent hostility and aggression — her usual go-to’s when greeting strangers at the border. Her posture is meant to express her authority, of course, but it is absent the taunt muscles of a trigger happy soldier. She can see the difference in herself, the change that being promoted to Fleimkepa …acting in Heda’s stead has already instilled within her regardless of how temporary the position is. Will she remain so level headed when the Commander is better? Or will her aggression and hostility come right back and everything leave off just as she had left it? She doesn’t know. She can’t say.

“monin splita,” Eske greets him in her native tongue, chin lifting as she speaks the words. “Hail stranger,” She then offers in the common tongue. It is not exactly a perfect translation, she thinks, but close enough. Regardless, it is a neutral greeting. “This is Drageda and I am Eske Kom Drakru, it’s acting Fleimkepa. Who are you and why have you come?” Asked as not an accusation but as an invitation to divulge in his own greeting and following explanation.