Two Eyes Cenote ninety-sixth

In his more youthful years—sitting upon a mountain as the partner of one who had been deemed ‘Queen’ among the ranks—Akavir’s words would have been far less selective and far more quick to incite anger and a fight.

It wasn’t that the man had anything to lose in this very moment that held him back—but perhaps more of a grudging degree of understanding to the priest’s position as he spoke to him now, and he gave a baleful stare at the spoken words—the demand laced within them.

“If that’s what you want, though it changes nothing,” he offered, his own form sweeping to a reluctant sit—his eyes tracing the paw in which Senmut traced the water with—waters far calmer than the rapid forces of the creek.

“Taltos was my grandfather. He also went by the name Lasher. Mayfair. The Mayfair’s were a clan of wolves who claimed a forest closer to the ocean.” Witches—a certain allure of magic and power.

Of curses.

“If it makes you feel better, I did reveal to your Queen, Toula, that Taltos was a moniker used to protect a friend who had warned me of Akashingo and the dealings that occurred there. I didn’t want anything to be traced back to her—she had served time with your people because of the man, Germanicus.”

A pause, his shoulders lifting in a gentle shrug, his gaze tracing back over the other man—was he, too, weary?

“My name is Akavir. I lead a pack in the valley. Lilitu is my daughter.” A pause—that sudden sharp reminder in his chest. “Was my daughter. She’s dead.”

An ear flickered as he straightened, his jaw set. "I would apologize, but given what I witnessed in the desert with Eset, I stand by my distrust of your people."