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It became clear that this would be a messy convention. Every Infernian decided to wriggle their tongues and talk. Blond ears were already lazily pushed back on top of his golden locks, and they scarcely flickered as every new voice rose to add their participation to the unnecessary chorus. Sunset eyes preferred to linger with the Aquila, because it was the clan’s leader that they had come to interact with, originally. Only he had the voice to command his troops, after all.
Siv had been pointed out as their spokesperson once they reached the skull-lined borders of Itachi’s birth home. This was an effective reminder why he found himself avoiding larger groups if it could be helped. Salsola’s regular gatherings were different because of the specific hierarchy and traditions they kept. Most of what was said here was not necessary, and in his mind he thought it only to lengthen the time for negotiation and plotting. He couldn’t remember the ways of Inferni before he became a cast out. Perhaps this was how it always was.
Itachi, naturally, remained motionless and visually unresponsive to the on goings. His task here was very simple, and didn’t require much unless things turned for the worse.
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