If she had a choice, she would choose to have no allies. Unfortunately, they aren’t quite in that kind of position, and so, for now, they would keep the rest of the south on their side. The maturity of her body betrayed the fact she was, in fact, still only two years old. Being as she didn’t trust anyone, it was difficult for her to put trust into other lands, but Ophanim seemed to think it was wise that they at least be in someone’s good graces, and so, she obliged. Her young and brash mind wanted to resist, she wanted to fortress Loess away, but she begrudgingly accepted that they couldn’t do that.
She certainly didn’t trust any of them, however.
From a distant knoll she watches Vulgaris approach the strange mare and the hellhound, and almost immediately she is bristling. She doesn’t recognize them, and she is too far away to delve into their minds, but she is instantly suspicious, as she is of anyone that enters.
At a swift and decisive pace she makes her way towards them, rapidly closing the gap even though she never breaks from a walk. Her dark blue eyes flip sharply from the mare — young, but older than herself, though probably not by much — and then to the hellhound stallion. She draws alongside Vulgaris, offering him a hint of a smile, though her attention is focused on the visitors.
She only relaxes slightly when he greets them as Sylvans, and an inderscinable tap into their minds answers her questions; Sinner, and Mary, leaders of Sylva. ”And I am Starsin, royal advisor for Vulgaris.” The softness of her voice contradicts the mistrust that brews in her chest, but she is careful to keep her face a mask of poise and feigned politeness. ”I suppose you are here because you have heard about the changes in the kingdom?” Here, her lips lift into a small smile, her eyes once again resting briefly on the two of them, in turn.
