Two Eyes Cenote is that it? are you not allowed to talk?

the woman that greets him is waif-ish, draped in a pelage of dark chocolate and caramel browns. there is a palpable air of importance about her that stark can see, even as she launches into a verbose greeting that does not paint her as the pharaoh she mentions.

stark offers her a slow blink, confused by the courteous bow she offers him.

i — for the first time since he started to learn how to speak he is speechless.

wow, that was a lot of words. determined to regain his proverbial footing again, he feels the uncomfortable urge to fill the silences: never one to sit in them. uh hi, he dips his head in turn, a little awkwardly unsure how he was meant to react.

in the first minute of this encounter, this has not been like any border interception he's been in before. i'm stark, he introduces himself and shifts his weight. i was hoping for some directions — to where? he didn't know. nanoq had warned him he was going to the wilds to chase ghosts, that none of the apaata's remained. but it wasn't just about finding lost family. it was carving out a niche for himself that wasn't leftovers from one of his siblings.

a place to see what he could do when he took the training wheels off and had room to tinker. to explore. to grow.

or maybe a place to stay. i mean, definitely a place to stay — sharp canines bite into his tongue; stilling it from the rapid-fire default of his words. do you have a name? or should i call you walking thesaurus? he is teasing, tone light and grin boyish as it tugs haplessly at his lips.

stark, always the reckless, prodigal son. the one that lacked captain and sedna's prim and proper filter. never thinking before he spoke, and bypassing the reading of the room.

he does not know her, nor her him. but bold has always been his nature, for better or worse. and his quips have been known to get him in trouble many times: and he bore the scar for it beneath his left eye.