Greatwater Lake a legend stands before you all

Aktaiê watched her sister carefully after she had made her pronouncement, knowing all their emotions were raw. Psamathe was young, a freshly-made Adept. It was unlikely that she would dare challenge, but they were desperately close to their Mother... if there was to be a mutiny, it would be now. It was true that emotion moved through her younger sister like a wave, but it ebbed like the tide. The priestess nodded at the other female's assent, then moved in to nudge warmly against her cheek. "It will not be long. We shall feel Her embrace before the summer's end," this was a promise, spoken fiercely.

She glanced at Greyjoy as he whispered, though she said nothing. The Nereides had their own rituals meant for the Drowned One, though he was afforded no more than tolerance in the same way the consorts were. He and they were meant to serve the Sea and Her Chosen; if the consorts found comfort and acceptance of their place through the Drowned One, it was not her place to punish them for it. He settled into his watch, then, and Aktaiê returned focus to her sister without a word.

"How fare you, sister?" she questioned, "Do you hunger?"