It is easy to tell she is quite unlike her other siblings, at least on the surface. I cannot be sure what lurks beneath and yet, I do not sense the same erratic energy as, say, Umbra or the obsession of Underidge; she lacks the snake-like sneer of Blackthorne and yet, she is unlike Natiya as well. Ah, she is not soft like Natiya. There is something alive behind her eyes unlike her sister. Is she like her mother? Who can tell? Underidge was always very good at hiding his captives - before Kamala, that is. I dare not think on that too long though. Instead, I try to focus on her seemingly warm welcome.

Her mention of a den makes my brow rise and I am not afraid to let her see my eyes roam towards her abdomen; is that what she was implying? Is there somebody in need of a den? I do not ask, though. I allow the question to simmer into silence between us before I shrug, looking ahead once more as I do so. "What you cannot find, you ought to create, don't you think?" I give her a half-smile as we move along the shore, strangely at ease despite her unknown nature. Perhaps it is that giant, looming question of who that makes it her endearing in these moments.

"I must admit, Matianak, that I am surprised of your quietness while the rest of your family is so...loud. Have you not the same ambitions as they?" I am forthcoming, direct, unafraid to ask such a question as I move to make eye contact with her. It is not a malicious question, after all, but solely curiosity for curiosity's sake. Blackthorne wanted power, the others to serve. But what of their quiet, shoreside sister?