at length, a new scent overlaid that of the foliage and flowers, and brought a smile dancing into fruition on his lips. smile, he called to her, raising his head from his green bed. aguta. she was a shadow, stippled with scars and grace, and he invited her into his presence with a lazy thump of his plume against the loam. comfortable as he was near her, he did not rise, but kept his murky gaze trained on the woman, awaiting any and all she had to say with the forward thrust of attentive ears.
taltos recalled that he had put her aside in favor of tonravik when the trio had spoken last — he knew distinctly that not all would worship the witch and her kith as he did. and yet this moment was for them, for himself and for aguta, and he skimmed his lips back from his teeth in a wolf's-grin, letting tongue loll momentarily before he laid his head back upon the velveteen grasses.
if she did not wish to stay with him, lasher would not be affronted, but he very much hoped that she would remain with him here for a time. she was an aloof and guarded creature, and it was the dark mystery cloaking her that drew him as a bee to honey. she was not the witch, but only time would tell whether or not siku's daughter would be worthy of the title.