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BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY
Maren followed Volterra’s gaze after his greeting. The golden hunter dragon that Mr.Teatime had been spying on only now caught Maren’ eye. She didn’t know if the feelings she retrieved from her companion meant whether he would have wanted to join in or not, but along with a rumbling purr he stayed put.
Meanwhile, Reichenbach mentioned helping a hand, though it was when he mentioned her singing voice that the silence in Maren’s eyes got interrupted by a slightly skeptical frown. The tip of her left wing scratched the soft skin underneath her chin, apparently in thought. Angelic. She liked that description, despite it not per se being relevant to the truth. “I guess I do like humming,” she tried, not wanting to discourage the hopes of a honest flirt. “From time to time I sing the old songs from my native land and in my own tongue - so that they may not be forgotten, you see - but, other than that...“ Maybe I should try it more often After all, singing was about expressing oneself. Something her marble face didn’t always quite manage. Her pale white features sat on the same carved face everyday, even she knew that. Then again, investing time in such a skill to achieve nothing but perhaps happiness all sounded rather extreme.
Maren’s nose moved to touch that of her happy-go-lucky tiger companion. “You should hear Mr. Teatime’s singing, though. His voice really is magical.” He turned his purry humm into a rumbling roar in agreement, letting Maren feel the wave of energy that was released from her companion’s grasp as he did. Not entirely aware if others besides herself could feel it, she just smiled before turning back her golden gaze to Reichenbach. “And don’t forget the dunes. Even the desert sands like to sing their songs when they move around, when the winds are strong and wispy,” and her voice, too, sounded rather wispy when she said this.
Maren had seen Volterra fight Tae before, and even she had to admit that he wasn’t half that bad. Still; intellect must never be underestimated. They were needed in harmony if one wanted to achieve greatness. Or something like that. There had so far been little need for her to pick up a sword, and she did not mind it that way.
It was then that a small pegasus joined their group. Momentarily confused, the tiger mare gazed at him; the one called Pip. “I’m a warrior” he said. Maren looked from Mr. Teatime to the smaller variant of the stallions she had gotten used to, maybe comparing their size. Finally she shrugged it off. “Well, what do you know. Good for you.”
When she got the chance she added; “Naturally, as the Diviner of the Throat, I will offer you a position at my temple…” Her silent gaze moved sideways to Volterra, perhaps hoping to make sure for one final time that the former gladiator truly did deserve him for his ranks, instead of she for her own… ranks. But she wasn’t blind for the needs of the herd, knew it did not compare next to her own. So she nodded, maybe giving up defeat. “But I guess it would be rather rude towards my Sultan to keep you from him.” She glanced at Volterra, violets of her irrisses gleaming quietly within burgundy shadows. She would accept this fate. For now. “Let me know when it all becomes too much for you, I give therapy sessions in my free time. Enlightenment will always be there when you are in need of it.” Of course, as she didn't have much of that with all the thinking and pondering that she had to do while laying in the sun; floating on the sea, she didn't always have much of that. But sometimes the idea, of it being there just in case it is wished upon, was enough to keep ones mind sane.
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