Leera comes when she hears Hannibal's howl. Curiosity or boredom -- or perhaps both -- have drawn her from the dark, warm den she's made among a tangle of thick thistles, ears erect as she navigates the territory with silent ease. She's found that the people of Erövrare are rather private beings, almost reclusive, but with the wolfcall in the wind she anticipates at least some sort of entertaintment, whatever it may be.
The pitch of Hannibal's call tells her that he's summoning the High Lord, but it isn't so urgent for Leera to believe he'd send her away. Besides, she carries the blood of the High Lord in her growing womb; she'll allow herself to stick her nose wherever she so desires.
When she reaches the area, she spots Hannibal quickly. Strong, bi-colored man with a rather intense expression... and he's brought a friend. As Leera slinks closer, not attempting to shield her presence, she notices the familiar scent in the air and her eyes lock on the bronzed figure that follows Hannibal closely. "Nephthys!" she can't help herself from calling out, approaching both of the wolves. She closes her eyes endearingly and dips her chin to her friend, remembering their last tender encounter. However, Hannibal's displays of dominance are not overlooked. What've you gotten yourself into, flower... Leera smoothes the recognition from her face and drops into a sit, turning her attention to Hannibal. "Hannibal, it's good to see you again. And you've brought a friend..." she says, small pink eyes floating back to Nephthys. She wants to reach out and embrace her, tell her everything that's been happening, but she needs to know why she's here first.
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
