Luminous eyes took in the youth before him. She was not spectacular to look upon - Not a ravishing beauty, still beholden of the awkwardness of semi-adulthood. Perhaps she would blossom into the same sensual appeal of her mother, or perhaps she was destined forever to the stocky, practical build of her immense sire. Both options were heavy with value, and as such, Sirius was pleased by her existence either way. The offspring of his Auxiliary and Arbiter were always wonderful specimens, worth great amounts through strength or allure, or in the case of her older sister Salvia, both.
Upon sighting him, the girl lowered herself into a somewhat awkward bow; Her instincts to show reverence, and her newness to this two-legged frame, clearly clashing against one another. Black lips twitched up in cold mirth. Eris had taught her daughters well - The monarch was pleased by her display of respect, although his still expression revealed little of this. His words still hung, deep and imposing, over her turned head; For a moment, it seemed the girl might not answer at all. But then her voice, clear and clean with what he immediately recognized to be intelligence, voiced a name familiar to the king. His large coyote ears perked forward, catching the sounds; Two titles, followed by a word he had not heard in quite some time. Surprise stole across the wicked monarch's dark features a moment; Only a moment, before being concealed beneath the deep calm once more. That she knew the Italian term for his title was unexpected, but pleasing nonetheless.
Her voice piped up once more during the silence of his thoughtful pause, this time in offering. Narrowed pupils, thinly massed by acidic olive, sharpened their gaze. The dark beast stepped closer, the shadows drawing back from his pelt as he neared the youth. So, too, did this nearness reveal something concealed before - The tall, lanky brute's right foreleg was marred with an angry red gash, and he favored it with a slight limp. The bleeding had long since stopped, but the scar had yet to seal, and was large enough to provide substantial discomfort. He would not be able to change back into his other form until it had knitted satisfactorily.
Again, the monarch's deep caramel voice thrummed forth, this time alluring and warm. "How very kind of you, Erischild. Artemisia, is it? Such a strong name," Tenor tones swelled forth, and his lean frame prowled about her in a half circle, emanating predatory prowess. Black lips parted to reveal yellowed teeth, sharp as knives, as he spoke. "I would like to see your mother. Perhaps you would accompany me? Your home is not so far from here, and I should like to know more of you, dear girl."
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