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To say that Shaheen was more inclined towards politics wouldn't have quite been accurate. She had, however, perhaps spent more time socializing then Shikoba did. She had friends, and acquaintances. She had spent more time talking to them and getting a feeling for who might be on their side in this matter, who definitely wasn't, and who she still considered to be in neutral territory, able to swing either way depending on circumstances. Maybe she was just a little more..observant of the goings on within the lost clans, but she also wasn't the most subtle when it came to conversations, or on voicing her opinions. Or at least, she hadn't been, not until it became obvious that Shik intended to do something about their current position, and their current leader.

It wasn't until then, when the idea of an actual mutiny was in the air, or was it an usurpation? A power change, a change in rule. It wasn't until she knew that action would be required that she became more careful of what she said, or who she said it to. This would likely require careful planning...

But it had been foolish of her to expect Shikoba to be patient, to appreciate the more subtle necessities of their plan. He had always been one to rush forward into the thick of things, and now didn't seem to be an exception to that rule. He wanted to talk to Medea, and instead of arguing, Shaheen had only studied him for a time, jaw clenching as she mulled over the idea in her head.

What could it hurt?

Likely a great deal if this decision had been the wrong one.

But she had to learn trust, and acceptance of the man she had chosen to throw her lot in with. Fighting between them would get them nowhere. A strong, united front. That's what won wars. She had accepted his more direct and headstrong plan, and accompanied him to Medea's tent without complaint.

Gold on black eyes leveled on his when he asked if she was ready, a smirk playing on her lips. "When am I not?" She replied, smoothly, one hand reaching out to hold his larger, clawed one for just an instant, a firm squeeze, one wing extending to brush fingers against his back. Reassurance? An odd gesture from the war chieftain to the man she had once claimed to hate, but there it was.

"Medea?" She called out towards the closed tent flap, voice strong, unwavering, not revealing any of the nervousness, the doubt that she indeed still felt quite strongly, partially from her insanity, partially from knowing that what they sought to do was quite dangerous. "Are you in? We would like a word." Or several, if things didn't go badly.

With a small brush of his wing in return, he slipped his hand from hers as Shaheen called out to the priestess, raising his head to greet Medea. They would have to start on solid footing and not appear weak (though Shik apparently struggled with the concept of deferring to his elders). He heard Medea speaking to someone and frowned when the tent flap revealed only her within.

More secrets? he wondered, passing the chieftain a look.

How lucky for them, though, that she was agitated. Things were already going well: anger had a way of motivating change, of pushing a person into action. Or spelling out hasty doom for him and Shaheen, either or.

"The opposite, my lady," Shik answered, sweeping his wings low to the ground in deference as he bowed, though his eyes remained trained on the high priestess even as he bent. "Perhaps it is time we offered you something in return for your dedication. If you would let us in, we would like to propose something to you--something that we believe would benefit the Clans."

"As long as time flows, you are still children, not mine perhaps, but your legacy belongs to a path." Just for a brief moment as she spoke there was a flash of her former, proud self, arrogant and composed. Just a moment, and then as she opened the tent flap - a waft of thick incense escaping the inside, she collapsed almost dramatically onto a large pile of exotic cushions off to the side.

There she would stay, holding up the mirror, staring right at her reflection for the longest period of time before she finally looked away. "Speak your mind, dear children."

Shaheen had to grit her teeth to keep herself from responding to the child comment for a second time, remembering her place, her over all station when in comparison to the likes of the High Priestess. Elder though she might well be, she was still much younger then the woman who stood before her, though she had to wonder at said woman's maturity levels when she collapsed to the pillows in a much too dramatic manner.

Another look was passed to Shik before she followed him inside, casting just one final glance over her shoulder as she did so.

As usual, the inside of Medea's tent was thick with a cloying scent of incense.

She watched the other woman with eyebrows slightly raised, wondering at what she could possibly be looking for in the reflection of her mirror, before the other woman called them children again.

Shaheen very adamantly bit her tongue, taking the look Shik gave her and simply glaring at him back in response, and waited for him to triple check what she had already checked a thousand times before now before he was back at her side, and then allowed him a chance to say his piece before including.

"I have never supported his method to begin with." She cast another glance at Shik, this one showing just how very unimpressed she was with him and the others for voting the man in charge to begin with. "In as much as what Shikoba has already explained. Medea, it is you who has led us since the fall of the isles, you who has found and lent to us the strength in Fear to continue to fight. You who allowed us to continue our harvest on human lands, and on the wretched white coats themselves. You are my leader, not Death."

It was a bold proclamation to make, and one that Shaheen might very well live to regret, but it was better then living like this.

Hey, Shaheen, how about not insinuating the sensitive stuff like the voting right now, you b***h. Medea was already in an odd mood without bringing unkindly reminders about his worst mistake thus far.

By odd mood, Shik meant the kind that made him want to throttle the life back into the high priestess, consequences be damned.

"Not so easily," he argued, flexing a fist instead of using it to hit something. At least that was the old her starting to talk, but Shik would have appreciated less of the child talk--even if technically part of this was just for the chance to initiate a rebellion. What more could be expected of War in a time of peace?

"Death is derailing the horsemen from their path, and we want him gone. If that is childish, so be it," the executioner harumphed. "There were a number of us who did not listen to his advice when we hunted our clones in the Coats' lands; there is reason to believe we are not the only ones dissatisfied." Or maybe some didn't care; that was still better than having opposition in his eyes.

"Power and domination is what made us who we are, High Priestess; I would be lying if I said neither was my intention," she said. "A year under your rule has brought us closer to grasping at our history. Several months under Death has caused nothing but the horsemen being corralled by Halloween law. The choice seems very clear to me."

He would not speak for Shaheen, even though they had both agreed to this, but he did stop there and looked to her for a continuation.

Those words were enough to stir something in Medea, a little more spark of life as she rose up taller than she did prior, once again a little more full of herself, that pride, that willingness to see things through to the bitter end. "Those words, you seek of rebellion then, of a separate path. They are perilous words for ones so young such as yourselves." Wait a second, how old was Medea? She didn't seem particularly worried about rebellion however, and more excited. "Yes, such rebellion, could be done, perhaps, but I must consult my sister."

And then, for lack of a better word, she pressed her ear against the mirror. It was eccentric at best and for the most part, really awkward. It was like those Halloween students and their strange skellyphones, only it was a mirror and not a skellyphone. A few moments and distinctly nobody actually talking from the other end later, she looked up. "She prides a strong spirit-" Was Medea talking to herself in third person now? - "it is a welcome change from others so willing to cast everything aside and forget themselves. Lesser creatures have completed greater tasks, after all."

The Head Priestess shifted ofter, deeper into her tent and gestured to the two. "Come now, have a seat, my children. We shall begin with a legend."

Young? Shaheen supposed it was all relative and in comparison, and she would not sit here and argue age, especially not now that they appeared to be getting somewhere. Pride was something that Shaheen could understand, shattered pride that was regained something she could closely relate to. As Medea came to take on more of her past mannerisms, Shaheen began to feel a little more comfortable in their decision to do this.

She still gave her best impassive face, awaiting what she had to say, watching with curiosity her performance and actions with a mirror that Shaheen could only assume was producing some kind of effect only Medea was attuned to, either that or the woman was playing them both for ignorant fools.

Settling down next to Shik, her own wings folding comfortably behind her, she waited for story time to begin, with only an, "Of course, Head Priestess." Thrown in for good measure.