Northstar Vale vitiosus

While she sought comfort from Reyson, pressed in his embrace, there was a feline protectiveness that presented itself as well—graceful, sinuous and daring as she pulled back from his arms when her leader presented himself, eyes studying the others in their vicinity—heart hammering at the vision of Germanicus—before falling to Arsenio.

Never before would she dare interrupt as much—but like a lioness unfurling, the silver waif would beckon to Arsenio with a gesture, her eyes looking to hold his own gaze with a certain meaning. “Arche,” she offered, the display of assertiveness she offered now far from how she felt. Tamar was a mess of tears and forgiveness—there was no way to know Arsenio would simply throw her out in that very moment once he knew. But it felt impertinent he heard from her—and not from another—about her misstep.

“Forgive my intrusion here. I came to greet Reyson… he’s just returned from Akashingo. I wanted to check on him—I tried to see him in Akashingo, briefly before, but the Pharaoh had insisted on my company instead.” Her side remained pressed to Reyson—her meaning, hopefully clear, to her leading pack mate, that there was an underlying meaning to what she meant. Surely, he would put two and two together.