Word Count → 339 —
She'd come to the conclusion that someone who hadn't experienced war should neither speak for it, nor against it. So far, she saw it as unnecessary. Though she disliked anyone who wasn't a Luperci, she made no effort to extinguish them from the world. The opportunity to do so had already presented itself during her visit to Ichika no Ho-en whereupon she'd found the cheerful white woman. Then again, she'd also been incredibly pregnant. Slaughtering children was disturbing to her, whereas Boreas didn't seem to care who they killed. She appeared almost entirely wolf in appearance, but they'd cared little for that, either, even as self-proclaimed wolf purists.
This unconventional stranger didn't smell like the invaders, and even as he glanced up from whatever he was doing, she found herself surprised at the calmness that seemed to radiate from him like a tertiary presence around them. What sort of witchcraft was this, she nearly wondered aloud. Indeed, he had missed Salsola's border, but that wasn't anything to be sore about. They were clandestine and prided themselves on the shroud of secrecy they so often enveloped themselves within. Even now, she smelled almost entirely of saltwater and dry brush. His easy tones put her slightly more at ease, and she quickly returned his cheer with a bit of her own, Buon pomeriggio, good afternoon,
Sirius would be proud of her, she thought, at memorizing what she already had of the Italian language. It rolled off of her tongue in a manner that was almost more pleasing than English. It was even less guttural, and went well with her husky voice.
His staff might have ensnared her ocher colored eyes on another day, but for now it remained locked on the shiny white object about his face, hiding most identifying features from her line of sight. Even his eyes were indistinguishable to her, and she mentally frowned. Pausing to consider the strange word he murmured, she remained lost in wonder for a moment before answering. Artemisia,
Then, παιδί? What does it mean?
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