Nyteshade desired a reaction but Visenya had grown accustomed to holding back. In her youth, she might have been more confident in claiming titles such as “Princess” or “heir” but as she had grown older, she had come to learn that titles did not mean so much when you had no stable support to maintain them. She had made the mistake of using such titles and posturing with such power several times before – each time, she had been given an unexpected response, be it from laughter to outright aggression. So, when he postured, she did not shrink back but she did not raise either. Instead, she merely permitted him to do so. If he wished to claim a rank above her in the badlands of a pack, she would not deny it to him. These were not her badlands after all, and she knew eyes would be on them soon enough. If she rose, they may believe her to be more likely to rise against their own queen, and if she shrunk back? Weakness was a universal language. His words were what brought about a response. Her head tilted once more with her brows risen slightly in curiosity as he seemed to fight with the words. She watched, bewildered and in awe, but cursed herself inwardly when her awe had turned out to be foolishness. In a moment, he had lunged forward, and her instincts had screamed at her to shove backwards and yet, time had betrayed her. She felt her legs freeze beneath her as her heart smashed against the front of her chest – her hackles rose like dark fire along her spine. Her eyes had not left his though, and she sucked in a deep breath of him and the world around them when his nose stopped a mere inch from hers. What had meant to be a breath of relief had instead flooded her with foreign scents, some familiar and others not. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat that had been the thought of a growl and breathed out instead, forcing her body to relax once more as she forced a shrug. She had no doubts he would have felt her surprise and instinctual desire to...fight back, she thought. Of course, she hoped he had also noticed that she hadn’t. Instead, she hoped he’d be more interested in words than teeth. "Nothing is something, and something can be nothing to others,” she said as she thought of all the wolves who had treated the word ‘Spirane’ like nonsense, like some foreign ramblings of a petulant child. "You don’t smell like nothing to me,” she stated flatly, "I smell the tundra, the forests, flowers, even old prey. Those are all things, all something.” Her eyes had been hard on his but they were forced away when a newcomer announced their arrival. Again, Visenya cursed inwardly. So much, she begrudged herself, for not being caught up in things. She gave the male another glance and then stepped back so that she might pivot towards their newcomer, a child who did not hold herself like a child. No, Visenya thought, it is the posture of a princess with the power to claim it. Even as the girl giggled and spoke her foreign words, Visenya held herself firmly, neutral as she had been with the strange male. She bowed her head and held the position for a moment before she rose to speak. "I am Visenya,” she began, glancing once more to the male - he had asked her, after all. "I am a newcomer here in Moladion. I come seeking treaty with the leader of these plains so that I might move onward through Moladion knowing I have shown my good will to those established here in these lands.” She watched the girl closely, though one ear remained turned towards the male – she watched him in her peripherals. She was curious as to how he might respond to all of this, intrigued by his unpredictability. Visenya could not help but think the girl in front of them was similarly unpredictable. Had she made an error in venturing to Asteraia first or by claiming to be a newcomer? Her face showed none of it, as stoic as stone. |