“speech”
She had not drawn his scent; all that filled her nostrils was the scent of brine, reminding her of the snowfall that had been Ankh's coat. These days, the Regent disallowed herself from thinking too keenly upon the Pharaoh; it would not end well for her if she grew attached on mere basis of their shared pasts.
A wave crashed against the stone surface of a cliff, and Hatshepsut flinched involuntarily, but recovered herself quickly. A pack resided here; she tersely joked unto herself that it must be comprised of madwolves, and the dominating fragrance was female, a curiosity that gave her pause, lapis eyes peering interestedly into the claimed lands.
Throughout his many moons on this earth, Spyridon had been taught that the mothers and sisters were to be respected above all else. This respect, however, did not extend to outsiders. They were to be either captured, if the pack was in need of males, or evaluated by a sister, if the curious wolf happened to be of the fairer sex. He had been taught only Greek and knew nothing of the common tongue. This was put into place so that he might not spill the secrets of The Nereides. They were a fiercely secretive and elusive breed, giving their cultural secrets to only those who had proven that they were loyal to the cause. And even then, it was only the females who were granted the most knowledge.
Coming around a bend, Spyridon spotted a lone figure looking into his home. Curious wanderers were aplenty, but those who were truly loyal were much less abundant. Ankyra Sound was strong, this much he knew, but it could always be stronger. As he drew near, his presence was calm and confident. “Αυτή είναι η Άγκυρα ήχου,” he said, knowing full-well that she would likely not understand the words that fell from his mouth. If she did, it meant that she was likely from one of the many branches of The Nereides, and she would be welcomed by the sisters. If not, Spyro would call out for one of his sisters to speak with her.
“speech”
He spoke, and though she was not of the Nereides, the Regent understood. Karnak had been granted many visitors, and as acting Pharaoh, she had bee in position to know each of its guests. Persians, Sardians, Romans, and yes, Greeks had passed through her court, and quickly the tongue returned to her.
“πώς οι Έλληνες έρχονται για να εγκατασταθούν εδώ?” the small wolfess asked, drawing herself up as lapis eyes appraised the man, suddenly far more intrigued by this stretch of beach than before.
(Let's make this whole thread's OOC talk just three-word exclamations, plz.)
In place of the usual confusion and bewilderment, there was recognition. Not only that, but she spoke back to him in the tongue of the sea. She bore an accent, that much he could tell, but her pronunciation was not that of a newcomer to the language. This sister was well-versed, so how could she not know why they were here? She was obviously not a wolf of Ankyra Sound, this much he could tell from the way that she smelled, but she also lacked the salty brine that all the other sisters had carried, even from afar. Was there another sect that had gone inland? That was preposterous, and Spyro knew that could not be the case.
“Οι Νηρηίδες ζουν εδώ,” he explained. She had not mentioned them by name, leading Spyro to believe that she did not know them. How could she have? This one did not come from the sea, from what he could tell, even if she spoke their language. It was odd, but perhaps one of the consorts had escaped and taught it to her. Or a sister who had gone astray. It worried Spyro to think that such things were possible, especially so close to his new home.
“speech”
“Πότε οι Νηρηίδες εγκατασταθούν εδώ?” she asked after a pause, intending to glean as much information from this man as he was willing to give. It was, after all, what Hatshepsut had spent her life pursuing: knowledge.
It was posed more firmly than before, and rephrased; she sought an answer, one the Greek had not yet granted unto her. Shrewdly, she watched him.
Her question only confirmed what he had suspected: she was not one of them. Merely an outsider who happened to know the language by some other means. Spyro immediately drew himself up to be taller, taking on a different stance that was more standoffish than the one he had previously held.
“Εμείς δεν παρέχουν ελεύθερα τις πληροφορίες.” Even when one joined, they were not immediately given all the secrets of the pack and culture. That sort of thing was to be earned, and Spyridon knew this. “Έχετε άλλη επιχείρηση εδώ;” If not, Spyro would send her on her way, by force or otherwise.
“speech”
Her plume fell to curl 'round one hock; Hatshepsut passed a roseate tongue across her dark lips before continuing in a more natural vein: “Σε ποιον θα μιλήσω , αν ήθελα να μου μετράνε μεταξύ των αριθμών σας?” she inquired at length.
Currently the Regent had no desire to divest herself of the Glacier and its wolves, but she was opportunistic beneath her regal bearing, and if acting as though she wished to join the seawolves and their sisterhood granted her the information she sought, then so be it.
“Εμείς περιμένουμε εδώ.” Spyro then sat, curling his obsidian tail around his feet and keeping watch over this outsider until the sister arrived.
When she rounded upon them her sights fell first on Spyridon -- the black-pelted male that had thus far been a great asset to the pack. A precursory glance yielded the impression that he was not under attack; he was in an inclined position that lead Caiaphas to believe him nearly relaxed. Her sharp gaze then befell the lithe woman before him -- and meeting the brilliance of her lapis gaze for only a moment, she awaited some sort of introduction or cause.
but my petals have fallen.
“Εγώ δεν θα πιέσει για τα μυστικά σας , γιατί είμαι γνωρίζουν ότι είναι επιφυλακτικός,” Hatshepsut continued with a slight cant of her muzzle in the man's direction. “Είμαι, όμως , ενδιαφέρονται για το πώς η Νηρηίδες ήρθε να είναι , και αν κάποιος όπως ο ίδιος θα ήταν ευπρόσδεκτη.”
Caiaphas arrived, and Spryidon stood, backing away so that she and the accented stranger could speak. Here, he would keep watch for anything that might disturb them. He was not comfortable enough to allow Phas to remain unguarded, and he wanted to be close by in case the stranger tried to cause any trouble. Besides, if Caiaphas wished him not to hear anything, all she need do was ask him to leave. He listened casually, but spoke nothing as the two ladies conversed.
Caiaphas then turned her attention to Spyridon, who had said nothing against the rust colored wolf. She surmised this meant he had nothing to say; a conclusion that Caiaphas assumed meant the petite creature had yet to be hostile. For a moment she considered her answer -- the lethal intelligence behind Hatshepsut's dark cobalt gaze could not be ignored. She did not think this female was interested in joining them -- and as of late, she had come to find that the pack could not afford to feed another tire-kicker. Εμπιστοσύνη , όπως ότι δεν δίνεται ελεύθερα . Her words were final -- a cold sort of command -- and saying nothing else she retreated to their borders, turning around to stare distrustfully until the russet female quit their presence.
but my petals have fallen.
“speech”
Save for a minute curl of her lip, Hatshepsut accepted the edict with what grace she could muster, drawing herself up proudly and turning to depart the shore without a glance behind herself.
But she would return; the Greek matriarch need mark this.
Caiaphas was quick to shut down the Greek-speaking woman, and Spyridon watched with only a hint of attention. Satisfied that she would not come back to bother them in the moment as she walked away with whatever dignity she had left, Spyro returned to his patrols. His tail swayed with each step, knowing that his dedication to The Nereides would pay off. If he played his cards right, they would keep him and respect him as much as they could respect any consort. And really, that was all he had ever wanted.