A teenage girl turned her gaze on Apollo's uncle as he gestured to her. When she heard mention of a child to her lord an expression of shock came to her face, and a moment later she had been replaced with a deer hurrying away. A few minutes later a man in a green and grey cloak made his approach towards the group, the stoic expression on his face obscuring any emotion as the Lord of Clan Mutata Figura walked over to his visitors. His eyes glided over the retainers and Apollo himself, before finally settling on his uncle. Even if he hid the feeling rather effectively, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the presence of the Egyptians. Apollo had fallen from heir to a pretender among many other pretenders, who arguably have strongers claim to the throne than he did. The last thing Montare wanted was a succession crisis on his hands, after all.
"I welcome you to Foxhaven. What brings you here, my friends?" Acting completely diplomatically wasn't his greatest strength, but it was probably the best course of action regardless.
