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It didn't seem likely that the youth would ever consider her mother's gifts with contempt or ridicule, however far-off they seemed to her at times. She wasn't one to wonder why certain people had gifts and others did not; Arte was not without her own abilities however, as noted by the gentle knotting of her muscled shoulders. Since coming into this two-legged formed, she'd been hesitant to leave it, however odd others might have thought of her for it. Fingers, toes, and the ability to literally grasp things were a formidable draw, especially for someone showing such promise in the realm of physicality.
Therefore, she remained quite awestruck at what Eris' skills did and did not allow; the visions didn't give whole truths, merely a glimpse. It seemed fair to her. Surely there must be a precarious balance between power and ability, restraining one from being the all-seeing.
Eris confirmed such thoughts with a note pertaining to the ever-changing minds of their kind, and how ones will could change the future. "Of course," She parroted slowly in rich tones, as if she'd known all along, like it was as obvious as her shadowy mother made it out to be. It was her own hope that the weir's progress moved along at an acceptable pace, and if allowed, that she might ensure it with her own two hands. Leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the serpentine flames that licked both wood and meat alike, Artemisia's build belied the elegance with which she moved, as always. Nothing jumped out at her, neither a vision or crackling embers. Licking her charcoal lips in thought for a moment, Arte finally leaned away and took a step away before pivoting to view the slaves and their progress.
One by one, the girl laced her fingers together as she contemplated how best to frame her next question, all the while keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Even if she wasn't meant to be a prized orchid for being a slender beauty, her never wavering gaze might just be the key. Nothing went unnoticed or untouched under her keen orange-yellow gaze. Finally, she cleared her throat. "May I help?" She murmured, still in the husky tones, gesticulating toward her mother's prized pearl of a dam.
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