The fury that still burnt through her system had only been slowed by her brother’s change. She was proud of him, but knew now he had to face a task as she did. So while he went to seek out their poison-eyed leader, Salvia stalked through the weeds like a pale wraith. It did not take her long to gravitate towards the barn, and while she was eager to spend time with the ever-growing colt, others always seemed to find needs and tasks for her. This time it was a quiet voice calling in Spanish, one the girl recognized due to its difference from Tlanti’s. With silent steps she found the slave and demanded to know why she had come this far. Molca babbled quietly about her mother in response, and Salvia dismissed her almost instantly.
Four-legged, she closed the distance to her mother’s home with ease. A proud thing as she was, Salvia hesitated outside of the claimed homes in order to shift to her two-legged body. It had not been long since she had gained it, but signs of her pubescence were showing. None was more apparent than in her growing height, for she was still thin and unshapely. A feral grace clung to her step, cat-like as it was, and carried her towards the doorway of her mother’s house. Bright eyes gleamed in the darkness as she approached, entering with only the slightest hesitation.
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