06-04-2014, 04:13 PM
Tehya had never replied to Aria Piccolo's text the previous day, but she had not forgotten it. The faceless arrangement of times and places seemed wasteful when it turned out to be a simple feat to discover where the woman was, and it coincided neatly with Tehya's intentions for the day; she was already here, seeking knowledge, when whispers of Aria's indiscretion reached even Tehya's stoic ears.
She did not like the Moscow headquarters. The religious heart of the Atharim had always sat awkwardly with her devout loyalty to the cause, and the two did not exist with much mutual cohesion in her heart. She was not Christian, and the core of her moral beliefs viewed the Catholic faith with a distant wariness that prejudiced her against those closest to the Vatican, and to some degree the Regus. Not a thought she was foolish enough to give voice, of course. She was faithful to the Atharim's truest vows. But blind fanaticism did not sit easy with her
It was not a wise idea to interrupt a reprimand, but the nature of the rumours had pinched a frown between Tehya's brow. The place of the furia was a temperamental issue, one on which Tehya fell in with the controversial side of the argument. Her commandeering of the two furia to hunt the rougarou had not been incidental; she was practical enough to seek potential allies in a foreign country, in the heart of the world she was most likely to be caught out in her lie. She only knew a little of Aria's history, and what she did know sparked a protective anger that urged her footsteps down the hall to Father Stone's office.
She knocked, stepped in. And paused. Her dark gaze swept quickly over the scene: Father Stone cowering at the furia's feet, the look on the woman's face. Her cheek was raw pink. The stern expression on Tehya's face did not change as she softly pressed the door closed behind her. "Explain."
Her tone was soft, but brooked no nonsense. It was a measure of trust that she reacted with no hostility. That she was open to an explanation at all.
She did not like the Moscow headquarters. The religious heart of the Atharim had always sat awkwardly with her devout loyalty to the cause, and the two did not exist with much mutual cohesion in her heart. She was not Christian, and the core of her moral beliefs viewed the Catholic faith with a distant wariness that prejudiced her against those closest to the Vatican, and to some degree the Regus. Not a thought she was foolish enough to give voice, of course. She was faithful to the Atharim's truest vows. But blind fanaticism did not sit easy with her
It was not a wise idea to interrupt a reprimand, but the nature of the rumours had pinched a frown between Tehya's brow. The place of the furia was a temperamental issue, one on which Tehya fell in with the controversial side of the argument. Her commandeering of the two furia to hunt the rougarou had not been incidental; she was practical enough to seek potential allies in a foreign country, in the heart of the world she was most likely to be caught out in her lie. She only knew a little of Aria's history, and what she did know sparked a protective anger that urged her footsteps down the hall to Father Stone's office.
She knocked, stepped in. And paused. Her dark gaze swept quickly over the scene: Father Stone cowering at the furia's feet, the look on the woman's face. Her cheek was raw pink. The stern expression on Tehya's face did not change as she softly pressed the door closed behind her. "Explain."
Her tone was soft, but brooked no nonsense. It was a measure of trust that she reacted with no hostility. That she was open to an explanation at all.