Hideaway Strath falcon

While the gilded snowbird's pomp had irked The Priestess, she wasn't ready in the slightest for what Nyra proposed -- the man's simpering seemingly not enough to convince The Overseer of Ramesses' contrition. The pale wisp's butterfly auds fluttered, half-mast in her confusion, as an expression of abject concern overtook her blank, protective features: rosy lips parting in a tiny 'o' of shock, brow rumpling as jade-kissed opalites clouded with alarm.

"Nyra," the pallid milkmother rasped, lips working wordlessly for a moment as she tried to find some way to refuse this horrible thing without offending her superior and friend. "I cannae..zis is nae.." the once-slave stumbled over her words, raspberry tongue swiping along her scarred chops in an anxious gesture as she smothered the breath of a whine that wanted to escape her slender throat.

As if suddenly remembering he was there, her gaze snapped to meet the cold sapphires of the Underling's -- hardening again, reluctant to display weakness in front of someone she couldn't trust. "Ye could serve Vein or ze gods...just leave me out of it," Aerin informed him brusquely, frowning slightly. Murmuring an excuse, the Saluki was quick to leave the scene and the duo behind -- heart racing against something she couldn't name.