Inquiry and demand for riposte, answer and retort, shine through the ozone layer of blue, sharpened clouds, the Seeker wonders if he believes she is issuing a trial, a challenge with which to rupture and pillage, yet the Seeker offers no such challenge, no such war, she wishes the Geier would place faith in her, belief, for she will break the bones of any who dare oppose her family, dare seek death and all it's sweet caress. There would be no scars across her Queen's frame, no broken castle with which to trample, no blood to stain her home that was not the stains of a traitor, she would place her life in that of her family, place her life and lose it for her Queen's, and she would gladly skin the apparel off of one who threatened to do such terrible things to her sisters, her brothers. Obsessive urges of protection slide along her chest cavity and pool in her heart at the mentions of the mere acts, her crown stands ready to thrust into the bodice or ship of a adversary, watch as the soul of her good work is torn from it's saddle and thrown into the realm of Hades below.

Raised harks perked with interest as she introduces herself to him, a tension vanishes from the air to which she breathes and more relaxation fills her lungs. He speaks, a trainee, a teacher of arts and common warfare, and she simply nods in response, not unkindly, watching as he seems to falter at her expression of interest piqued by his thoughts and speech, actions and views upon the world. He spreads forth different queries in retaliation, to move forward in their shared discussion, he speaks of her deemed name and again, she nods, speech flows from her maw and twists spider's webs in the air. "A poetic nonsense, translated for that of a Vulture, my dear."
The Seeker says with hopefulness that he will further relax, will wipe most if not all of his mistrust of her terminology from his mind, she has come with tidings of good and care, she has not come to rip frame from bone and snap ligaments in her wake.

Another query springs from his jaws, and she studies him with frosted violet pearls, judges him to respond correctly, what interests her about his views? A gentle silence befalls then, curiosity swirls in its depths from both parties, and finally she allows her lyrics to sing a tune again.
"Many wander through this realm with open or closed minds, Geier, short explanations or none at all are given out from their ordinary minds of mundane intelligence. And yet, you.. have created a realm through your discoveries, have you not? You have created your own realm in that which is your mind, not followed along the common rabble as a dog after it's meal. You interest me, as a salmon that attempts to move against the current instead of with it would interest me in it's ability to think for itself."
The morsel drops from her maw as a treat, philosophical meanderings and metaphorical whispers that create one, whole response, it hungers for knowledge, for a explanation of why the salmon swims against the current, she hungers for more of his views, for scientific endeavors, so that she may understand his movements.
Perhaps he will grant her such knowledge, curb her hunger, perhaps he will simply stare and watch. Regardless, she finds it is a most.. intriguing specimen.


CREDITS

@[Vulture]