With dignitaries of greater importance than themselves beginning their departure, Tarquin’s eyes flashed over to the stunted human - dwarf as they called themselves - and the company that this Aspect-Human kept. A handful of the familiar flying figures, though not of his own race, radiating foreign magic and not of the pheromones that Tarquin had associated with his species. More of the short figures and a few taller, slender beings around the impressively robust cage holding the now muzzled beast. His feet gently tapping the ground, Eteri gave a loose smirk over to the others of his Order; Particularly Galladon and Leikn. The former was poised and ready to smash into the cage to just wrestle the former Aspect, whatever provoked the creature formerly known as Asta, the Harpy had not a clue. A questioning look up at their chief guard - the prince who bore zero resemblance to the titanic king - and Tarquin figured that this man likewise had next to no clue either. A questioning glance at the other warrior monks and Tarquin’s full suspicions were confirmed. 

No one knew a thing about this monster. They were just reacting to its movements. 

‘Well,’ He cupped his chin thoughtfully. ‘That’s a good way to get your face bitten in two.’ Playing by a predators rules, only ever changing an attitude based on its hostilities was how prey often fell into a trap. If Asta’s new form was at least as intelligent as a modern dire wolf, Tarquin estimated that she would be more than equipped to plan ten steps ahead of her captors, if this was their approach. Eteri quizzically wondered what either Galladon or the Jotunn thought of the Goddess born anew, though the gritting teeth of the Aspect of Protection betrayed the man’s inner thoughts. ‘I think he’s fought them before, hasn’t he?’ The Harpy shook his head at the thought. From balled up fists to narrow strips for eyes, the Aspect of Protection took a blatantly aggressive stance. A clear challenge to the animal’s supremacy. ‘Perhaps,’ Tarquin whistled as he paced forward. ‘He thinks she’s a challenge to his.’ That brought out a shallow laugh. 

“Is something funny, Eteri?” Leikn’s monotone draw gave the harpy pause. 

“I tend to think most things are a little funny, don’t you?” 

The walking wardrobe shook his head in protest, eyes glowering at the significantly younger titanspawn. “Life and death isn’t a joking matter, Eteri. Treating it as such will see you a corpse before you can even prove yourself useful.” 

The Harpy’s smirk fell only slightly. Such a response was almost routine from the Jotunn, yet it didn’t buffer the entire blow of the comment. “I’m sure that won’t happen. I’ve got half my life yet. Plenty of time for even you to apologize to me.” His eyebrows wiggled at the notion. Leikn merely turned on the balls of his heel and grunted. 

With the parade of armed forces - the company of Asgaheim’s finest accompanied by fifteen warriors of the Silent Order - maneuvering forward, careful to give the carriages assigned to the politically important a wide berth, the unofficial official leader of the wagon train turned to Thaddeus. Tarquin, now hovering feet off the air with a rhythmic flap of his wings, turned to observe both.

“After we clear the fishing village, Irst,” The man spoke with certainty, though his eyes stared past the dwarven prince and into the cage. “We’ll break from the main road and head North, then West. We’ll completely avoid the city and most of the more populated villages along the way.” It was not a topic to be discussed. Galladon merely explained what he was going to do, Eteri noticed, and expected compliance. Even now, as they made their slow progression, the Aspect of Protection’s eyes were heavy on the former Aspect, a warriness or fear - even maybe a hint of eagerness - in those eyes of his. 

“Bit of a long way to the palace.” Tarquin decided to finally speak up - he’d been silent enough. “I’m sure the people of the capital would enjoy seeing us parading through.” Already, Eteri could see the cogs turning in Galladon’s head, working through the provocative suggestion and wondering whether to discipline the warrior or rip off his wings. 

“Don’t make these poor jests.” He finally responded. 

Carefully looking at the man, Tarquin decided to end his little game here. “You’ll have to forgive me.” A hand roamed the scalp of his head, lightly massaging it. “It’s been a very dull morning for me. Leikn’s been bitter and opposed to having the faintest discussion since we’ve arrived.” Usually, Tarquin would keep the game going until he managed to get one of his comrades to snap and swipe at him. It was a fun way of testing their limits, seeing exactly what perturbed them more than most things. Eteri considered a way to keep these immortal warriors humble. They saw the harpy as an annoying song bird. “In the interest of our safety,” The Harpy rose in the air, stopping once he was roughly eye level with the dwarven prince. “Is there anything you can inform us about our Goddess here? Any particular color she doesn’t like? Favored meal? Displays of intelligence?” The Harpy rolled his neck, stealing a glance at the giant wolf. “Have you tried giving her a tummy rub?”