The stranger steps towards her and draws his weapon, swinging it through the air in a menacing arc, and the hairs on the back of Naya’s neck start to stand on end. The brunette reaches into her boot to retrieve her dagger again, but stops short when his blade bursts into flame. Before she can process it, the smooth baritone of his voice is in her head, murmuring, [i]“I have not been out in the sun too long, and you are most certainly not an authority on such matters. As for your woodland glen I had preferred that you simply tell me. Now I suggest you talk or I shall be forced to take the information from you.”[/i]

 He pulls free of her mind and begins to physically speak again, but his presence in her head has left her reeling and a little sick to her stomach. Naya sways slightly and briefly worries that she is going to do something humiliating like swoon, but she manages to keep her footing, thank the Gods. When she can focus better the stranger, [i]'Amon,'[/i] her mind supplies helpfully, now has a ball of lightning cackling in his off hand and everything finally clicks into place for her.

[i]'Oh,'[/i] she thinks numbly, blinking her almond shaped eyes as she appraises him with new understanding. [i]'He's a witch. Like me.'[/i]

"I'm sorry," Naya apologized, rising from her crouch and leaving her weapon sheathed. "I didn't know you were blood of my blood," she confessed, pressing the index and middle finger of her right hand to her mouth before moving them down to rest over her heart. It was an old gesture used between witches that basically meant, 'I see you'. When the movement was finished the brunette held up both of her hands to show him that she meant him no harm, which Naya thought was obvious since the punishment for hurting a fellow witch was death by fire, but Amon seemed on edge, so she kept them up.

"I am Naya. I don't have a name for my woods other than home, but the human beasts call it The Semarian Forest," she informs him, his aggressive display of magic making her feel more at ease rather than frightened. "I am of the Belladonna tribe, though I have not been a part of any coven since I was a girl. I didn't want to tell you because I thought you were human and might try to hurt them. Forgive me, I didn't know that there were any male witches," she admits, flashing him a sheepish smile. Normally the tribe mothers would couple with a human male whenever they felt the urge to continue their line and then resulting child of the union was always female.