A pod of belugas called the Sound home, and Iscariot finds herself watching them once more.  They're large, pale things.  Majestic enough to catch her eye while she sits upon the shore, perched carefully on a large driftwood log.  Glimmering, near silvery against the surface.  Chilly winter sun hanging high in the sky, harsh light playing across her features and shoulders.   Wondering for a long moment about fishing one from the sea, the girl lets her imagination come to play.  Trapping them, maybe?  Setting up a net of some sort to trap one.  Considering Aresenn's lesson about learning their habits, she considers their feeding and hunting habits.  They did trend toward the shallows to hunt, maybe that would be enough.  While the belugas would have home field advantage, it was certainly more interesting than another old reindeer.

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With his panther companion in tow, Sephiran walks along the icy shoreline of the ocean inlet, watching chunks of ice float lazily on the water’s surface. In the distance, waves crash against the rocky shore of Arden’s Glacies, the water a dark, steely hue that reflects the wintery sky above. For a moment, he wonders which of his wolves are on the island, enjoying the warmth of the volcanic lake that bubbled at its dormant core. Aresenn and Absinth likely. As long as Absinth was training the ravens to patrol their territories, he’d leave her alone. And Aresenn? He’d proposed taking one more diplomatic responsibilities, and Sephiran was waiting to hear his report.

He considered crossing the frozen land bridge that appeared between The Polar Sound and the island, but decided against it. Nearby, a familiar scent was hanging in the air, guiding his muzzle in her direction as his eyes adjusted to the midday light. Riot. He hadn’t interacted with her since her arrival, but she’d taken her role as huntress seriously. She’d proven herself to be a master in the trade. He needed an Effendi Sayad; he’d made that clear at their foundational meeting. But he wasn’t the type to hand titles out so easily. If she wanted to be his lead hunter, she’d need to impress him further.

He didn’t hesitate to approach her, exuding his usual aura of dominance as he came up from the side. She’s perched on a log, studying the inlet with an analytical eye, which sparks his interest. “Riot.” He grumbles, commanding her attention. Shortly after, a forceful exhale of air bursts the water's surface, alerting Sephiran of the beluga pod feeding in his inlet. For a moment he studies them; noting their striking white coloration, which contrasts against the dark waters. They gravitate towards the floating ice, vocalizing with chirps and clicks as they breach the surface to take a breath.

His attention turns back to Riot. “You trained beneath the hunters in Saffron?” He asks, wanting to know where she got her training from. Of course, he assumes she’d picked it up back home, given she’d just arrived to his domain. And if not home, then he wants to know how she excelled so quickly.  

"Speech"

Code by Sea

As the large, pale creatures slip and swim within the Sound, she watches them soundlessly. Clicking to each other, like they're speaking. It's almost mesmerizing, though Iscariot wouldn't allow herself to be hypnotized so easily. Studying how they swim and drift, and doing her best to count them from her perch-- worrying that moving closer may push them farther out. It seemed to be ten or twelve of them, though she couldn't be wholly certain from this vantage point. For as often as the belugas haunted the Sound, she'd have plenty of time to collect more complete observational data. From her perch, the girl is closer to the sultan's eye level. As he approaches, speaks her name, Iscariot's head snaps from her careful study of the sea. "Sephiran." There's a stiff dip of her muzzle, prescribed deference. It's only a heartbeat before her gaze is drawn off by the whales once more, one of the beasts blowing water from its blowhole. Alert to it, though her attention is quick to return to Sephiran. She wouldn't be caught lacking, though the way the beasts communicated was still of great interest. His question shouldn't come as a surprise. She's arrived, and done what she can to prove her competency near-immediately. Frankly, from where Iscariot stands, she never has to rearrange her personality into something likeable as long as she's useful. Her steady gaze remains on Sephiran's face, tone hanging rather earnestly as she speaks. "The trackers and bounty hunters, mostly." A little shrug of her shoulders, weight shifting over her haunches as she turns to face him more fully. "Prey animals are easier, but it's the same skill set." Not only that, she'd been diligent about attending lessons, but it's not worth outlining. Sephiran had seen her, he'd been there. There's no need to spell things out, at least the things after her arrival. Stepping up to help meet the needs of the pack, just in her own hyper-competent way.

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Iscariot acknowledges her Sultan, offering a dip of her muzzle, breathing his name through those tiny lips and staring at him with those pale, amethyst eyes. For several seconds, Sephiran holds her gaze, trying to read into the labyrinth of her mind. She was preoccupied by the whales inhabiting his inlet, daring to break their eye contact to shift her gaze back to the frigid waters. Sephiran keeps his gaze on her a bit longer, to study her. Taking note of the subtle changes in her body language, the palpable tension radiating from her as she became consumed by predatory drive.

He’s still looking at her when she turns back to him, and the Sultan holds her gaze. One of his amethyst ears twitched when she answered his question. Trackers and bounty hunters. There were a few back in Saffron- loyal subjects who dedicated their tooth and claw to his father, ready to forfeit their lives in the name of the kingdom. Sephiran needed several for himself. Nodding, he acknowledged her explanation, waiting to see if she had more to say.

In the background, the symphony of whales breaching the surface intertwined with the backdrop of the Polar Sound, trying to pull Sephiran’s attention away from Riot but he refrained. “I’ve been watching you." He says, pointing out a known fact. Sephiran was always watching. “You’ve become a skilled huntress.” Not a compliment but a fact. “And I need an Effendi Sayad.” He falls silent then, watching Riot with a close, analytical eye. This was his way of offering her the role of lead huntress.

"Speech"

Code by Sea