As it stood, Salvia was still a child growing into a woman’s body. She had vague ambition, but nothing that could be seen as threatening. There was a constant desire to improve. Fluency in languages was one thing; ensuring she was invincible was another. Thrill rippled across her face and the girl all but leapt from her perch. Not fully grown, she was almost equal to Tlanti in height though much lighter in build. This would change in time, for she continued to eat with the same ravenous hunger of her brother.
Almost as soon as she had hit the ground, the girl moved to find her stance. It was something she did quickly, bending her knees slightly in order to drop her weight. The bulk of it rested on her hind leg. Both hands lifted, one in front of her face, the other lower, near her chest. She did not give the woman her front, for she was half-turned in order to protect her soft parts. Her face was alight with the joy of a child, but her eyes were focused and intense.
She said nothing, but waited for the coyote woman. Salvia, after all, was still the pupil here.
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