in the parish of space dust

Salvia Eternity · 01-26-2012, 11:38 AM

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The level of loyalty within the blonde girl was unquestionable. She followed no orders but those of her Hunter King, her uncle. Sirius could have asked her to turn on her own family and she would have done so willingly—save Pandemic, who held her trust above all others. If she had come to chase down the Mexican woman, it would have been with nothing more than the obedient mindset of a soldier. She was this, after all, and her mettle was undisputed. Since childhood her entire purpose had been warped within the claws of the Thistle King. Despite her fury, despite the tiger that lingered under her flesh, she was chained by vines and invisible strings woven by his words.

It was only coincidence she would find these two. Salvia had never even considered that Tlanti would consider leaving Salsola. She was so caught up within its laws that the thought of a Family member breaking them did not occur.

Though the proper meeting could not go on, Salvia smiled broadly. She was proud of her achievements within the pack; even now, she held rank above both of these elder members. What occurred behind closed doors was lost on her—but she knew that Tlanti had lost the faith once held by their pack. Perhaps it was some sort of magic; these things were lost on the girl. Magic belonged to her mother and to those who existed within such a realm. Salvia was primal, feral, made of the earth and the wildness within her instincts.

Salvia noted but did not comment on the mistake, and nodded smartly. The sharp glint in her eye returned at the mention of the festival. “I don’t think that would be wise,” she said, a frown crossing her features. “You and he have notable scars—if we find something to cover ourselves, we might. We can’t risk someone recognizing us.” Even her mother donned a disguise when she left the lands. “But I will help you look. I need the same things for the barn,” she added, her own Spanish flowing from a non-native tongue. The horse under her snorted, tossing its head. Salvia looked around sharply, as if this might indicate that they were being watched; when she saw and scented nothing, her gaze returned to her aunt.

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