An interesting predicament

Ahh, so she’s the same little spitfire he remembers from before; the girl who fearlessly fought a polar bear, only to follow him into the unknown immediately after. Intriguing. He can’t help the smirk that pulls at his lips, a mischievous glint shimmering in his eyes. It’s an expression that invites her intrigue, as he is a willing participant in the game of banter.  Something he’s sure she remembers from their previous encounters, just as he remembers her competitive nature and indomitable resolve.

“Ahh, but I do,” He says, returning her jest, his head tilting slightly to the side. Beneath the veneer of his charm, there is a wit and cunning that is undeniable; one women usually ate up, but given their age difference, Delphi was just a girl to him. “We’ve been declared enemies of an empire, you see,” If she hadn’t caught wind of Artorias’ threats against the Saxe family, he’d make it known now. “And if war came to our door, our Sultan felt this… decor, was a fitting way to say, keep out.” If enemies came knocking, perhaps the carnage at their borders would detour them away. They could become another corpse at their border. Oh, and Sephiran was a sadistic fuck who loved playing in carcasses and gore. But he’d omit that part.

Shifting gears, Delphi reveals some rather interesting information, claiming she was the new alpha of Vikings - well, Hemlock now. Rhazien nods, shifting his weight slightly, the subtle curl of his lips speaking to the thoughts occurring in his mind. “Congratulations.” A simple response really; he wouldn’t dwell on how she acquired the pack. Whether she challenged for it, took it by force, hell, if she killed Vidarr and stripped the title from his cold, dead paws. It didn’t matter to him, because it made no difference. Delphi was queen now, and she would be the wolf to consult regarding pack affairs until he learned otherwise. And given they were neighbors, they'd need to establish some sort of standing.

At the gift, Rhazien dips his head, watching the odd creature toddle over and place a bottle of mead in front of him. Signaling to Zemir, one of his serval companions, he commands her to fetch a set of mugs for them to drink from. Then, Rhazien shifts his weight to his hind end, reclining down into a seated position. “Oh?”  His gaze fixates on her, his attention unwavering and his demeanor signaling his interest in her ruse. “Give me a hint at least, so I can decide if this information is something I want to know.” Zemir returns, heading over to Delphi’s binturong and prompting it to assist her in setting up the mead for their masters.  

"Speech"