Lion Head Mesa Vasílissa

it was too late, he had spotted her.

perhaps the shine of redsun against her gilded shoulders, too quick even for her to prevent. the shadows swept overhead but when the man spoke, satsu was drawn out from them again. he was dazzling; in every way that germanicus had been imposing, but softer too, almost boyish. the red of his coat was like nothing she had ever seen before.

his voice was different, too. strong, confident, lilting; it brought to mind a memory of midsummer, while her brothers pretended to fish at the river, laughing and splashing instead. yes, he was very much like them - and so satsu was at once disarmed.

i am satsu, she said softly, lacking the chill that had been slowly encasing her the past few days. ushiyo satsu, of akashingo. why do you seek me? this was most curious. he did not look like anyone she had met before, nor was he injured, but - there was the faint mark of a familiar scent upon him, which in that moment satsu had forgotten belonged to the auxilliary, she was so distracted.