Lion Head Mesa thirty-seventh

Winding hallways and grand rooms, carved in stone unlike any he had seen, despite any cavern explorations he might have held in his time. The walls were adorned—nothing like the rudimentary decor he had seen a time or two before, and grand rugs of animal skin.

A man was laid before them now on such—they had been summoned, brought forward by what he had come to learn as servants—the fellahin were. Germanicus’ whereabouts remained unknown to him at this time, and any indication he were to leave the side of Wren from those that followed the Queen was met with a polite but sharp ‘no.’

This man, though, he did not recognize from when they were brought in. Nor had they held time with @Toula, as had been promised. Instead, they had been taken to clean—offered succulent meats and were expected to lavish in the mean time.

As if the inner caverns were a spiderweb, and they were being lured.

He remained silent for a moment—Wren consumed the berries without question, and he kept a blank stare for now, less inclined to worry about slighting the other, though his muzzle dipped down to pay his regards to the man in power it seemed—curious to know this ones title and purpose. “We haven’t met yet,” he offered, his tone a soft rumble. “I’m Taltos. This is Swan.”