The day was an overcast one and while the temperature wasn't too frigid, whenever a sharp wind blew from the north the Consul's shoulders shuddered in protest. It was turning out to be a fairly mild winter so far—especially in comparison to last year's. However even mild winters by Nova Scotian standards were desolate in the mind of the Italian. Perhaps more than anything else, she missed her birthplace's climate the most. The summers had been hot, true, but she would take hot summers over these icy winters any day.
Ebon paws traipsed down to the shore, the place in these lands where she felt closest to her old home. Dark waves crashed rhythmically against the sandy beach and Savina closed her eyes listening to the methodical sound. If the Earth had heart or lungs, the waves were certainly the physical manifestation of its beat and breath. Some might have argued that surely the wind would have been the planet's breath, and in a way it was, but the wind was an inconstant thing. Sometimes blustering and sometimes as still as the grave. The waves, the tide, they were always there. Never changing. It was the breathing of the Earth, and of her soul as well.
A sharp call reached the triangular wolf ears, though it was not the call of one of her kind. Emeralds reopened and searched the area for the source of the aquiline sound. There, perched in a sparse tree, was a cream and brown raptor whose yellow eyes were trained unnervingly on the sable Consul. Never before had any bird looked at her that way, not even a bird of prey. The Marino met that stare unflinchingly and slowly began to walk towards the tree—expecting the hawk would take flight as she neared.
Instead the taloned avian stayed still as a statue, all the while staring at her with his bright, round eyes. Savina continued to meet his gaze as she came to a stop at the bottom of the tree. He was perched on the lowest branch, and she probably could have jumped up and caught him if she were quick enough and he were distracted. A deep growl rumbled in her chest, a feral noise of domination. Yet again, instead of taking flight, the raptor unfurled his great wings and uttered a shriek in response. A wolfish smirk lit the woman's face. "You're a brave creature." The great bird folded his wings back against him, all the while maintaining her eye contact.
As she continued to look into that piercing gaze, the smile melted away from her features and a sort of entranced look fell over her. A name, well-known but unbidden, rose to the forefront of her mind. "Vespasian," she uttered softly. The mottled hawk cocked his head for a moment at the sound, then returned to his stoic stance, though his chest seemed to have puffed up. The smile found her lips again. "I'll be seeing more of you, won't I?" He clicked his curved beak a couple of times. The wolf nodded, more to herself than the other creature, and with a flick of her tail turned back north in the direction of the Manor. As she walked away, her ears heard the faint sound of feathers catching air and soon felt the breeze of the bird of prey's passing overhead.
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