Ankyra Sound we walk like there's nothing wrong.

The day was late, almost enough that the sun had completely disappeared from the sky. The last reaches of twilight found the salt-stained child exploring the far edges of the territory's shoreline. Callantha stopped upon the sand and looked out across the ocean with a solemn and wistful gaze.

Her sisters may have seen the ocean as a great and merciful goddess, but to Callantha, it was just another bar in her prison. It wasn't that she hated the culture she'd grown up a part of, nor did she hate her sisters for following it or for working so hard to keep her on the same path. In her heart, she simply knew that it was not the right path for her. At least, not the way everyone else walked it.

It seemed all of her loved ones were content to walk in a perfectly straight line - never wavering, never even looking to the side. Callantha wanted the freedom to look, to misstep, to venture a little to the left or to the right at will. But every time she tried, they pulled her back in line and set her gaze straight ahead. Cal shut her eyes with a soft sigh before she tilted back her muzzle and looked up towards the sky where the moon had just begun to peek down at her. Somewhere a gull was crying in tune with the waves, and not for the first time did the young ward wish that she could be that bird and just fly away.

As a consort, Kevlyn mostly kept to border duty, especially with the arrival of the mysterious women from Themiscrya Coast. It was his wish not to step on their toes, not because he internally believed they were worthy but because it was Caiaphas' wish that they integrate well. The Ostrega understood they were vital to Ankyra Sound in one way or another, so he stayed out of their way and kept his secret opinions to himself.

When he spotted one of them standing near the ocean, he very nearly diverted his course. He wasn't in the mood to deal with unproven wolves, even sacred sirens from the prodigious origin colony. Kevlyn had two metrics: one was the hierarchy of the Sound, which placed Callantha and all others above him; the other was his narcissistic scale of merit, where all newcomers ranked lowest. It wouldn't do to make known that he had any opinion whatsoever.

Yet he was duty-bound and soon was approaching Callantha from the side, where there was ample time for her to catch sight of him. As he drew near, he slicked back his ears and let his head fall between his shoulder blades, and when he was next to her, deferentially murmured, "is there anything you need, sister?"

One of the aspects of Nereides culture Callantha had always had the most trouble with was interacting with the consorts. It felt easy to accept that they were below her and existed to serve, but she could not understand why that meant the sisters had the right to treat them so poorly. There had been so many times she'd been reprimanded by her mentors for enticing the consorts into playing with her or trying to be too friendly with them. And yet, she just couldn't help herself. In a way, she felt like she could relate to them, for on some level, they had to be just as unhappy with being born into this life as she often was - at least, she was compelled to assume.

The young wolf was slow to turn her gaze over to the boy when he approached, too busy was she watching the gulls that danced along the wind high above her. When she did, she recognized him immediately as the youngster who had greeted them at the borders and who had offended her sisters with his insolence. Callantha was almost as uncertain about him as she was about the witch queen that ruled the Sound, for the way he regarded her, it almost seemed like he worshiped her.

Callantha eyed him with a quiet, curious gaze as he spoke to her. She pursed her lips slightly, pondering how to answer. She kinda wanted him to just go away... but also... "What's your name?" she asked instead, ignoring her misgivings about him, if only for the moment.

The sea pounded the shore nearby and the gulls screamed overhead, but all of these things were put aside. From an early age, Kevlyn showed a talent for focusing. It was part of why he could stand gargoyle-like for hours if need be, and why he was shaping up to be such an excellent Warden. He was able to clear his mind of all external stimuli and focus only on what was at hand—in this case, Callantha, and the way her eyes fixed on him with a thousand unspoken questions evident in their oceanic depths.

He had no choice but to answer her question, of course, so he promptly rumbled, "Kevlyn." His surname was left out, in part because it wasn't important and in part because it represented his pride, something he refused to let the sirens know he had, but something that was very much a part of himself. He was well aware that he wasn't born in Ankyra Sound and that, in any other circumstance, he might've been a proud and deserving male, and so he held onto that part of himself.

He didn't field any questions for Callantha. It wasn't his place, something he'd learn early on. Only in the company of Caiaphas did he ever overstep that boundary; typically he waited until he was spoken to, as he did now, with his head, tail and ears still lowered.

Kevlyn. Kevlyn. Callantha repeated the name in her mind, pondering where it had come from. It didn't sound particularly Nereides-esque. So where had he come from if he hadn't been born into the culture? The boy was so young and he played the part of the spawn so well. It was quite puzzling.

"Is Caiaphas your mother?" she asked bluntly, "Like really?" Cal wasn't in the mood to be fed some crap about how she was the matriarch of the whole clan. They were somewhat similarly colored, so it stood to reason that perhaps he was of her blood. And if not, it might lead her to discovering more about what the dynamic was here.

The question came abruptly enough that for a moment, Kevlyn teetered on the edge of saying, "no". He caught himself with his mouth half-open, tongue against the roof of his mouth, and slowly he closed it. He knew his real mother was a pale wolf, and that his father was tawny. He could remember those details, although not much else about them. Their names already eluded him, and sometimes in his memory it was Caiaphas who played the role of mother.

For that reason, he opened his mouth again and said, "yes, she is." This, of course, was not a foolproof lie. Any wolf who knew exactly when Aktaie left could tell that he was too old, unless Caiaphas had come to the Sound already pregnant. Still, it was a lie he told in devotion to the siren queen, for he sensed there would be judgment, possibly even contempt, if he told the truth of his origin.

Callantha bit her lip, frustrated at the boy's short response.  Of course, it wasn't unlike a male in the Nereides culture to respond with as few words as possible, but the very untraditional Nereides female wanted more than that.  She wanted a friend, and he was acting like just another mindless statue.  Didn't he understand what he was?  Didn't he know what he wasn't?


"You can talk to me, you know," Callantha said rather abruptly, "It's fine, I don't mind.  I want you to, actually.  Don't talk to any of the other girls like this, but.. You can talk to me like normal."  The fact that he was Caiaphas's son went over her head in her earnest attempts at bonding with him, as unfortunate as that was.  Cal had never been very good at noticing the things that were most important to see - such as how going against her entire culture with the pack matron's son was a rather bad idea.