[hider=Denemika~~<3!!] [img]http://i1305.photobucket.com/albums/s550/BOINGSY/a58f5e5d-a4e0-4343-93b6-1bf726c0b369_zpshpdrxmj8.jpg[/img] [/hider] The girl needed to stay outside of this impressive “Gathering House,” of that Denemika was certain. And even though the Ground spirits of this settlement (in fact, all the settlements save one, that she visited) had given her very... dulled responses, she could still feel them stirring. This truly was where this [i]queen[/i] was hidden. And even though the Priestess was forbidden to speak with any spirits here until she performed proper rituals, she could feel the tickles and whispers of the agitated and excited spirits calling to her, to speak with her on this Side of the Worlds. The energy was erratic yet just too alluring as it jittered and wafted out from just beyond these doors. Denemika could feel the shorn-headed girl's gushing aura. Granted, it was rather sweet and cute of the teen to feel such heated emotions for this [i]queen[/i], but a gushing teen could only dance in warped circles and speak with twisted tongue right now. Denemika was of no mood to deal with that; nor should she. The importance of this initial meet bore too much in the balance; this meeting would either give Denemika of the Bellady Nation the right and reason to stand tall with the Queen Rhysln... ...or to slay her on the spot should the Huntress find her unworthy as a leader and Matriarch. No, Radiant needed to stay out here. And so Denemika basically made the teen believe how important it was to 'be the eyes of the queen where the queen could not see.' That was partially true, but the next offering was utter truth: 'It was best to impress upon the queen with the confidence that one acted with the queen's best interest in mind.' It did not take a Priestess of the Ground to see the signs of utter infatuation not only in the actions of bubbling teen girl but also in the sparkling green eyes of the bubbly teen girl. Denemika smiled, with an internal sigh of relief, when Radiant nodded several times enthusiastically then bounded off, actively sniffing out intruders, spies and assassins and trying not to look like one as she went along in her raggedy outfit. ~~~~~ [i]So strange were these outsiders... they liked to close themselves in with their doors and walls. Did they not speak with spirits and offer them bargains in return for shelter from the elements? Apparently on the outside, they did not.[/i] 'Mika closed the door behind her and the thoughts in her skull appeared with the slight shaking of her head and bare perceptible smirk pulling up at a corner of her dark pink lips. And so here they were. The summoned. The brave answerers. Those about to die for the whims and desires of a scorned woman. A woman of royalty, noblisse and the utmost impeccable pedigree, but a woman scorned no less. Interesting, to say the least. The enormous woman strut forward, the sound of precious trinkets and talismans dangling from her powerful frame, rattling and tinkling with each step. Perhaps none could hear such things over the raucous and mirthful blabbering of excited males and over-worked wenches, but 'Mika could hear them. And she could feel the spirits, the curious ones at least, begin to stir up that much more and take notice that a Priestess of the Ground, a woman of elemental earth had arrived. A cloak of tanned hides stitched together with red dyed cord enveloped her huge frame and all manner of weaponry and religious or otherwise paraphenalia beneath. The cloak was lined with feathers and striped fur at the collar, hems and the edge of her cowl; Halajah, her bonded-four-legged sister's mother walked with the Priestess. Several long shafted pointy spearlike weapons were bundled at her back and were tightly strapped to her, pressing the white woven cord taut between her ample breasts. Tattoos rippled and flowed across long muscular arms but alas, her proudest ones were covered by her dark, tanned suede gloves. Her long strides continued as she glanced around the room, amber eyes flitting about taking in faces, postures and intent. All the while her head was locked in position, tattooed face forward towards her mark. Each soft leather, knee-high boot step was impossibly inaudible. There was no sound of clomping boot; eerily there was only the almost musical sound of the tinkling trinkets, whispering feathers and jewelled talismans that lined her person. Finally, she came to a halt and stood just a stride in front of the kneeling males. A single breath did she take as she held a pose, chin up, body rigid yet burning with the intensity of a predator on the hunt and boiling with the presence of the blood of ancestors before her. “This huntress/priestess is Denemika of Bellady Nations, First of Amelinas Huntress, Priestess of Namtista's Circle, Daughter of Torenika, Granddaughter of Minauren, Mother of Tomeni. Ground is her Soul, Hunt is her Blood. Live and die with Ancestors of Bellady. Denemika here. Denemika home. Humbly ask to be your daughter, Matriarch. Here now. Home now. For you and our family...” Amber eyes took in the lovely smooth visage of the youthful Queen Silverspring. Wild amber eyes waited for this one response, this one reaction, this one time, glistening with the contrasting hues of hope-- “...how you have Denemika now, Matriarch...? Where you have new daughter to stand, Mother Rhysln?” --and shades of single-minded murder.