between the shadows and the soul - erebor, diplomats

[Nayl]

Burn my lungs and curse my eyes Mother can't expect her daughter to stand idly in wait for her return. That would be too boring, too wasteful of her time. Nayl is more forward and direct. The child's footsteps whisper across the Jungle's soil as she weaves among the trees. There are voices nearby that are accompanied by an unfamiliar, outside scent. Knowing only the Jungle Nayl can't subdue her curiosity as she quickly melts away the distance between her and the expanding group. The others smile in both greeting and in a manner of diplomacy. The girl doesn't mirror them. Her expression betrays little. Her autumn eyes - an array of golds and oranges - peer up first at Straia (she gathers her name by the greetings and responses of others) then to the boy. An intrigued stare holds onto him for a couple heartbeats prior to diverting her attention to the neighboring Amazons. The girl has wedged herself between the Khaleesi and Sunday rather nonchalantly. She stands and holds herself as though she belongs here and in that moment, she greatly resembles her grandmother. Even her smoky black patches splattered across a canvas of white make her even more so like Echion. Alas, she never had the opportunity to meet her fiery, hard-headed grandmother. "I'm Nayl," she placidly offers to the group followed by a roll of her shoulders. Unable to provide a great deal to the conversation she is mostly here to learn. Unlike her mother, Myrina, young Nayl has ambitions; little does she know how much she mirrors the former queen in this respect also. And finally, as a second thought almost, Nayl looks up to the Khaleesi. "Hello, Aunt Scorch," the corners of her mouth lift but it's barely a smile before she returns her attention to the Chamberlings. Nayl covet and myrina's creation