Ankyra Sound watch me

in the drab swell of overhanging bleak clouds, the woman draped in a pelage of ivory — though she is large and bear-like — stands out in stark contrast against the dulled creams of the sand and the murky, dark depths of the ocean as it everchurns and froths upon the sands. she bears an strict air of authority that brings with it no surprise to kharybdis, of whom believes all women are more worthy than he. he might've been warchief in titan spire but he always bowed his head to the women in charge; he was the red righthand of the imperatrix and her council of three always.

mahogany red gaze studies her and then averts as she both draws nearer and speaks when the distance between them is not so great and it is easier to hear over the lulling roar of the waves. a storm brewing out upon the sea, the furie thinks.

hello, kharybdis parrots, knowing he will have to get used to speaking the common tongue, judging by the fact that she continues on using it. though he has learned it from birth alongside his the language of his people it has been some time since he's exercised it ( let alone practiced it ) and the word feels strange and heavy upon his tongue as it spilt from betwixt his lips.

❝kataigída sti thálassa❞, he muses thoughtfully in the draconian tongue. sea storm. he offers the translation after a few seconds, assuming that she did not understand it. or, he considers, maybe it was just overcast and gross without a brewing sea storm off the coast — but judging from the froth of the sea and the hard crash of the waves he was willing to bet there was a storm brewing. are you...na...na-tive? he stumbles over the word unintentionally, diverting his eyes — out of respect for he had just asked a prying question! — and slightly out of embarrassment; for it appeared perhaps his common was more rusty than he'd brazenly assumed it was.