Boartusk Heights [ffm] [m] luna rosa

The wolves that took home in La Muerte were different. They belonged primarily to the shadows. Soleon had majorly shifted his 'hours of operation' to be more suitable to their needs. Often, he rose in the early to late evening and wandered the halls of the kingdom seeking where he may be needed.

Even if they were not atypical and belonged to the night--they still belonged to the shadows.

Reyna addresses himself and another male. Basilio. There was something different about the large male. Soleon had never conversed with him. He wondered why he only roamed with hush tones of the same tongue Reyna and Paloma mixed in. He had begun to register only certain words of the foreign language.

The light shines on him now. Reyna is essentially congratulating him for a job well done, in her own way.

What does he want?

Reyna had mentioned she would someday seek a Shaman. He wasn't qualified yet. He knew that. Accepted it, even, and there was a hesitancy. He felt as though something was still misunderstood by him. He had no idea. But what use was he to the kingdom that had offered him respite if he would not even attempt to indulge in all of their ways?

"I would like to further my knowledge of your ways. I think that would be good. I am always learning how to be of good medicinal use, but I told you I would do more...even if that means stepping outside of myself. I'd like to become your Santa," the holly jolly bastard he couldn't resist. The word rolling off of his tongue only as a repeat of what Reyna had spoken to him many nights ago.

She addresses Basilio too. Paloma falls from the pedestal only barely beneath The Matriarch and she translates for him. He is thankful. Also, she smells nice.

He doesn't miss the looming of a particular word that seems to linger in the air. He looks to Paloma and sees her eyes have fallen on the male now too. It sounded like leader, but he could never be certain. Not until it was explained to him. Perhaps he would ask the handmaiden later.

Now he quietly sits, waiting, wondering what is next. These people are strange--ominous almost. Yet, he was eager to know the practices of the cult.