Much like when they had been scoping out lands around the Islands that might be advantageous, Modesty found herself shouldering her way through the towering grasses of the Plains, the thick scent of prey and their criss-crossing paths leading her on deeper into this foreign land. While there was an advantage to the high grass, she was sure, all she saw was an inferno waiting to be ignited when one of Kenway's stills blew up. She exhaled through her nose, supposing the goats could probably make short work of knocking some of the grass down, or at least getting it to a manageable level, so they could see what they were hunting, if indeed, the Raiders decided to turn their attention this way.

"speech"

As Rhazien entered the plains, his large, strapping body is enveloped by a sea of tall grasses. Bending in the wake of his paw steps, his movement caused the grasses to ripple beneath the golden waves of the afternoon sun. The feathery tips of the blades brushed against his legs, creating an itchy sensation, but Rhazien ignored it. The Syndicate’s Effendi Dhaka was on a mission- and fate had a charming way of bending in the wake of his ambitions. He’d meant to visit the borders of the Raiders, intent on meeting the queen who attended the birth of Elysia’s children. Whether it was intentional or coincidental, fate had woven their groups together, built on the premise of shared blood. And that was something Rhazien couldn’t ignore.

The Raider’s scent was distinctive- he’d smelt it on the borders following Elysia’s birth. He recognized it as he entered the plains, the gentle gust of wind carrying it to him, guiding him as he traveled to the heart of the domain. As he pushed through the plains, the path he made was quickly filled in behind him, erasing any trace of his passage. It felt like he was traversing across a natural labyrinth of foliage- it was both serene and isolating.

As the grasses thinned out, Rhazien caught sight of a silhouette in the distance- a celestial form suspended in the backdrop of endless plains, walking with a sense of purpose. Rolling his shoulders forward and putting on his suave, charming smile, Rhazien headed toward the woman, emerging from the grasses with ease. His presence seems to transform the atmosphere, charging it with a warm, magnetic charm. There’s effortless grace in his movements, his gait smooth and measured, as he aims to enter a conversational distance with the woman.

“My, how fortunate am I.” He croons, a hint of mischief flickering in his dual-colored eyes. “I’ve bumped into the Raid Queen herself.” Of course, Rhazien couldn’t be certain that this was the Modesty Elysia spoke up- but she matched the description and scent, so he was making an assumption. “Rhazien Saxe.” He says, introducing himself with a slow nod of his head. “The Syndicate’s Effendi Dhaka- politician, if you will. And Elysia's Uncle.” His voice trails off, his eyes studying the celestial woman, anticipating her response.

"Speech"

The crisscrossing waterways, an extension of the estuary, probably contributed to the height of the grasses. It could be a good location for Sakana to establish a garden, for those plants that preferred full sun. It would probably make a good grazing area if they decided to expand into sheep, after all, wasn't that the next logical leap after goats?

The towering stalks hardly lent themselves to stealth, so when the dark coated male emerged from the sea of grass, she was neither shocked nor awed. Standing about as tall as Gilgamesh, she supposed he was probably used to standing over most in height. His presumption was met with silence and a look of abject boredom, by all means, as if obviously she was who he assumed her to be.

Modesty had many things on her mind of late, the least of which revolved around politics, particularly regarding a pack that lived so very far away. Still, she wouldn't outright dismiss the man or call on her children to run him out just yet. "If you've come to bring a gift, you'd have been better off heading to the Moor." It wasn't delivered with presumption, merely stated. If he continued this way he would approach the territory from the furthest edge from the Ravine, perhaps he'd even end up in the boggy ground of the Estuary. He'd be waiting an age for an answer if he had called.

"Did the stench of your decor drive you so far from home, or are you here for a reason?" She smirked, clearly not afraid of the man before her, nor the pack he represented. It would be a lie to say she hadn't considered perhaps her missing members had been kidnapped like that other packs pup had been, but she would deal with that if it were the case in time.

"speech"

Often, Lyra could be found in the shadow of one of her packmates or siblings. She liked to keep track of who she could whenever she could. However today, it seemed she would be following Modesty. She kept her distance, not because she was sneaking around but because she had found it was easier to go unnoticed. Where her mother went, she would go. Today it seemed to lead to a dry and scratchy plain. Much different than the one she had been in last. The tall stalks of grass were course and pulled at her fur. Even Modesty seemed to have to apply some effort to make it through.

Lyra was just about to call out for her mother when a strange male approached. He spoke to Modesty, and although he seemed to be a little arrogant he was respectful. So far. He was a large man, nearly the size of her mother. Lyra decided it would be best if she kept quiet and out of sight. If a fight happened she would jump to her mother's aid.

For now, she would shrink down and slowly back deeper into the tall blades, using her extra small size to go unseen if possible.

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Despite her look of abject boredom, and her jab at The Syndicate's choice of macabre decor, Rhazien does not alter his demeanor. He’s watching her with a calm, yet calculating gaze, maintaining an air of casual interest. “I’m afraid I’ve come without a gift.” He admits, offering her a subtle shift in his expression- a sly, yet apprehensive twitch of his lips, that asks for her forgiveness. “But if you’ve taken residence in the Moor, I can offer you something similar.” Deep baritones are velvety and smooth, as he weaves a proposition meant to pique the woman’s curiosity.

“Mmm, our decor is certainly… grotesque.” He adds, building on her observation. Scattering rotting corpses at their door and stringing entrails up in the trees didn’t create an inviting environment. And that was the point. “But we find it serves its purpose. We don’t have visitors often.” His tail flicks behind him, a gentle breeze picking up in the plains, swaying the tall grasses at their bellies. “Unless a group of wolves attends a birth at our borders… their Queen included.” He adds with a keen sense of timing, steering the conversation with a deft touch. “I’ve come to introduce myself, as a representative of The Syndicate, out of acknowledgment of our shared blood.” Another curl of his lips, as he flashes her that suave, charming smile of his. “The boy- the Father of my niece's children-“ A single brow cocks over a dual-colored eye. “Is he your son?” Rhazien falls silent then, waiting for the Raid Queen’s answer.

"Speech"

Modesty allowed her tail to wave at his response to her jab about bringing a gift, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Of course she didn't expect any such thing, but then again, others rarely came to her borders without demands, if they bothered to come at all.

Quickly, the conversation turned to her grandchildren and Scald, and she allowed herself to look over her shoulder, back towards the edges of the plains where the grass was shorter. She wouldn't have a problem placing the man at her back with the quills that rested over her nape and shoulders, if they had to walk single file for a time. "Care to continue on? I can summon my sons companions to bring us refreshments. Not that one, one of the others." She waved a paw casually and allowed herself a half smile. "It's getting rather tricky to keep a track of them all," she admitted, gesturing in the direction of the Ravine.

"Unless it was a short discussion to be had?"

"speech"

Lyra listened intently, her eyes never leaving her mother's as Modesty spoke. Her mother's words wove through her thoughts, and she tried to piece together the complex idea of balance that was being presented. It was a different perspective than her usual, straightforward idea of action and reaction.

"So... it's not about strength alone," Lyra murmured after a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. How funny, Lyra was almost always sure that strength was what mattered most in this world.

She looked at her mother with a newfound sense of understanding. Lyra's gaze shifted to the turtles basking nearby, and then to the croaking of the distant crocodile. "I think I understand, Mama," she said finally, a determined glint in her eyes. "To survive, it’s not just about being the strongest, but the wisest."

She drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly, her mind still turning over her mother’s words. The young she-wolf was beginning to see that survival was not as simple as defeating every threat. It was a complex balancing act, one that required both strength and insight.

"Thank you," Lyra said quietly, giving a small nod. "I'll remember this."


"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN