I'd be the voice that urged orpheus, when her body was found

Pythia would not quite realize it, but she should be glad that the moor is not busy with nature like the ravine was. Out here, in the open, she was free to walk along dirt paths without so much care as she had when traversing the steps of the treehouses. Here, she felt safer, connected, as if something pulled her forward. Perhaps it was the rocks or her destiny, she didn't know which one yet, but when her uncle loosed a call for a lesson, she was not going to miss out.

Like her siblings, she didn't know who the man was that spread out the pelts and awaited those of them who wanted to attend. She couldn't see that he looked like their mother or that he was adorned with intricate markings that would have struck a cord in her heart. Instead, Pythia follows the unknown scent of someone that was similar to family and those of her siblings. Upon approach, she hesitates momentarily at the edge of the furs, paws moving along the softened edges until she steps onto them.

Reaching her nose out to feel for Cutlass' side, Pythia moves forward again until she's sitting down, her shoulder touching his. "Pythia," she states clearly, having heard her brother introduce himself and Sagittarius. She stares straight ahead, milky blue eyes practically unblinking as she tries to find the source of sound that she would soon come to know as her uncle. "What brings you to the moor?" Pythia questions, ears perking up, eager to know what was in store.

"speech"