I quite like this sensation. It is a feeling in the back of my throat, or rather, the way my skin seems to twitch down my spine at the way her eyes appear to be aflame with thoughts. There is a deep consideration within her. A tension. It's been a long time since I have been able to feel a tension quite like it; like the salt of the sea, it clings to me and finds its way down to my flesh. It is the moment the sage hits the ground beneath her that confirms I am not alone, or at least not delusional, to feel it. She did not drop it out of fear, I think. Instead, she seems to be looking for something.

Our smiles are but a mirror for a moment and I see her eyes flicker with recognition. I am just as swift to respond, my brow rising up with the hint of challenge. "Maybe you're right," I shrug the words away and into the wind, "but some might say a king's a king no matter where he is; others might say a king who helps another keep their paws clean is a man of the common folk and leaders alike." I pause, my head slowly tilting as I inquire now: "So tell me, do you think Spirane needs its paws kept clean?" An idle threat? Yes, very much so and yet, my voice retains a pleasantness that betrays the intention. After all, I am not overtly bothered by her theft but rather curious instead. All of this effort just for some sage?

Do I fear the word of some loner if we are indeed discovered this day? I do not think so. A loner's a loner no matter what words they speak and trust is a privilege granted to those that seem loyal to another. We are alphas. We assume that we share a cause. We assume those that share ours also share the others'. It's simple, really. But I like the feeling of tension she incites. I'll keep my mouth shut. I don't intend to clean the paws of Daenerys or Tithe today.

Her next words and the way she slinks forward makes me pause my contemplation. I instantly lock my eyes back onto hers, one side of my lip peeling back into a grin. "Tu non angelum," - you're no angel - I state with a swipe of my tongue across her lips, another mirror of her own actions as I swoop forward with another stride. "So...nos idem sumus." In a way, we are the same, no? At least, we are both sneaks this day. "Is the sage truly worth the consequences?" In the distance, there is a howl after all. A howl of victory. Daenerys' howl. I wonder if this stranger knows that. I wonder if she's afraid now.