Owner	Pose
T'Challa	Over the years, Wakanda has sought to learn what they could about one of their neighbors in the region, the Paka ya Mwezi. Dating back to the time of T'Chaka as King, leader of the Panther Clan and Protector of Wakanda, an envoy had been sent to extend the hand of friendship, if at a distance, to the tribe based in the Kenyan areas near Lake Turkana. Respect has been offered, and the representative has returned to Wakanda with tales of magic and another realm. How much of it came off as fantasy or reality was never for certain, though the ambassador was steadfast in his insistence that everything he'd spoken of was true. Rumors of a special member of the tribe were as yet unverified. Wakanda, as an isolationist, secular nation, did not reciprocate with sharing their own truth over the years. They did not do that with anyone, so why would they make an exception for a small, otherwise unknown group of people who happened to live in the same part of the world? Wakanda avoided conflict, kept out of wars, and had centuries worth of technological secrets and more kept under wraps. It was best that way. Then, T'Chaka was killed, T'Challa nearly joining his father in the afterlife. S'Yan was never that interested in the Paka. He had other things on his mind. By the time T'Challa became King, so did he. While the ambassador to the Paka continued his visits, the time between them began to stretch out. Eventually, when old age left him unable to continue, he was replaced with his son. These were things T'Challa had tangential knowledge of, an awareness that yes, there was a tribe of people who also worshipped the panther, who claimed they were of the moon or something of that nature, but...there were more important things in the world to deal with. Duties to his country. Responsibilities as an Avenger, a Justice Leaguer. Protecting the planet from threats both of the world and outside it. The latest assassination attempt caused T'Challa to reassess certain priorities. Wakanda and its people, his people, still came first, and the potential threat of an attack by Hydra was often in the back of his mind. There was always trouble lurking where Hydra was concerned. Klaw in particular. Was he behind any of this? Was it someone else? Years of questioning Wakanda's place in the world, if and how to pull back the curtain on its secrets, these things weighed heavily on him. If it was done, once it was done, there would be no going back. There is only one chance to show the world what's been kept hidden under its collective nose for so long. How would the other world powers respond? Would Wakanda be welcomed into the club, so to speak? Would it be seen as a sudden threat? These questions would wait a while longer. The time was not right. However, the time /was/ right to finally reach out to the Paka. The next time the current ambassador visited, he came with a message: the King of Wakanda wished to invite one who would represent them. This visitor would be escorted into the country, brought to the throne, would have an audience with T'Challa himself. A flying vehicle carries that representative through the skies of Birnin Zana now. Within, two members of the Dora Milaje, one Paka representative who is beginning to see what Wakanda has kept hidden for so long, and that one's own retinue.
Tara Tsabedze	The invitation was completely unexpected, but extremely welcome. The Paka ya Mwezi were a patient people, they had welcomeed the envoy from Wakanda and never once asked for anything more than friendship. After numerous years of attempting to make contact with the rulers of Wakanda, the Paka had finally received the contact they had been waiting for. There was no one else in the world more suited to speak for the Paka ya Mwezi than the Kivuli, and so K'tara was contacted. Arriving at the indicated location, Tara waited but not for long, the flying vehicle approaching was right on time. With her are three people, each dressed in a similar style, but the markings on their face mark each as a member of the three casts that make up the tribe. K'tara wears a magnificent ceremonial gown of silvery white material that shimmers down the length of her body. The bodice of the gown hugs her like a second skin, large flowing sleeves conceal her arms to the wrists, and the front is deep cut revealing her deep ebony skin and the peach fuzz of black fur that covers her. The bodice is covered in a masterful bead work of iridescent white beads that shimmer and sparkle in the light. The braids in her hair have been decorated in white moonstone beads at intervals along each one, and at the ends, but over it all is a long silver white cape with hood that conceals her head and face. Even as she enters this interesting flying machine, not at all like the planes she had been in before, she kept herself hidden within the silvery white. Gazing out the window she is amazed first by the view offered, then second by how silently and quick the plane went. Never once did she think to examine the machine, no, that was Wakanda's to know and care about. For her, for her people, this was about friendship and nothing more. As the plane goes over Birnin Zana, she shifts slightly so her view is better. If not for the hood concealing her, the shock on her face would have been visible. This is not at all what she expected from the hidden city, it was beyond anything she could have imagined. She had seen the grand cities of the humans out there, New York, Chicago, Tokyo... but this, this was far more beautiful.
T'Challa	The representatives of the King's trusted guard remain businesslike, stoic. Should they have opinions about this visit, they are kept to themselves. The King has no doubt already heard any concerns they had to air. The vehicle itself is less a plane, less a car, more a blend of both. It is a testament to the level of technology Wakanda apparently has at its disposal, and details of the city below suggest a standard of living that is far beyond what the outside world is aware of. Only a select few have knowledge of this. The time spent in the air is minimal, as they continue toward the Palace of the King, standing out above the rest of the sights the city has to offer. The temples that show the four cults feature design elements for each animal central to them, but above all else: Bast. There is no question which deity is positioned highest. Upon arriving at the palace, another pair of Dora Milaje await to help escort the visitors further within. "The King is ready for you." Tara is then given a closer look, a few details caught by watchful eyes. "You will show your face before the King," she is told.
Tara Tsabedze	Carefully stepping from the Wakandan vehicle, a moment is taken to look around before Tara looks to the person who spoke directly to her. Whether she listens or understands, or even cares isn't obvious, the woman concealed in white merely nods once to this person, then moves toward the throne room. She isn't a tourist, she's not here to look at the city despite how much she would like to, she is here for one purpose and that purpose is inside the building. The three Paka ya Mwezi climb out of the vehicle as well, then move with Tara as she walks. One walks directly behind her, the other two slightly back to either side, forming a triangle. Only when she is inside does Tara reach up with both hands to grasp the edges of the hood and lay it back from her head, revealing herself to those inside. The Paka directly behind her reaches forward at that exact moment to remove the cape from her shoulders entirely, and that is when the three stop and remain, thus allowing Tara to walk forward to the throne room on her own.
T'Challa	The entrance to the throne room is opened, revealing a lavish, open, circular room well-lit by windows at the back, highlighted not just by multiple examples of Bast, but glossy statues of panthers as well as the other tribes represented in some form. Adjacent, a great hall for feasts and entertainment. This is where Tara's group is taken off to, with a simple, "Please follow us. There is food and drink, and conversation to be had." Which, of course, will be kept simple along with underscoring the importance of keeping what they have seen to themselves. As for Tara, she is led in by a pair of Dora Milaje, and before the throne she can see enough seats to account for others that would serve on the Wakandan Council. They, however, are not present today. Only the man seated upon the throne is. T'Challa rests in place with his fingers steepled beneath his chin, a serious expression shown in his features. His hair and beard are trimmed to a fine degree, and the clothing he wears speaks of comfort and tradition. It is primarily black, with long sleeves and legs, feet clad in leather sandals. Tribal designs in silver are inlaid in the threading at the breast, neck, and arms, and he awaits Tara's further approach. "Leave us, please. We will speak privately," he explains to his guard, who turn to leave and shut the doors behind them. He says, "I am T'Challa, leader of the Panther Clan, King and Protector of Wakanda. Welcome, and be seated." In spite of the serious nature he carries, his face is kindly enough. "You are..not at all what I expected to see. Bast appears to favor you." The visual of her appearance leaves no question that she is not the same as the other Paka. It is also enough that he appears caught off-guard, if for a moment. Or two.
Tara Tsabedze	Tara is not a short woman, and as she walks toward the throne upon with T'Challa sits, her head is held high and her movements are pure grace. There is nothing about her that screams aggression, in fact quite the opposite. She is an open book as she moves, hands loose at her sides. Reaching a point before the chair she pauses to offer him a bow of respect, braids falling freely around her shoulders and across her face as she says, "I am K'tara Tsabedze, the Kivuli the Paka ya Mwezi, we are honored that you have agreed to meet with us King T'Challa." When she straightens the braids fall back into place around her neck, then she moves to the chair he has offered. "I have learned a great deal about Bast since traveling from the tribe, but you are the first to place a connection between my appearance and the Goddess Herself, I am honored by this perceived connection. I cannot say for certain if the great Bast has a part in what I am, but I do know the Goddess Moon Herself does."
T'Challa	If it appears that T'Challa is staring, that's because he is. What he makes of this sight, that's something he's being careful not to give away. "Yes, my reports mentioned the Kivuli more than once, but were short on detail except to mention something about human and panther, and now I understand what they meant." For a people that takes the inspiration of different animals into their own appearances in ways, to see something like this is a step beyond. "Were you the first I'd ever seen to look the way you do, my surprise might be sharper. Instead, it is more..let us say moderate," he explains, a smile that appears mixed between natural and forced. "And I must offer my apologies for our relative silence on behalf of myself and our prior Kings. I trust you have already seen why we keep Wakandan secrets close to the chest. Simply allowing you and the representatives of your castes here is a large step for many of us, but the world around us grows smaller by the day."
Tara Tsabedze	The gown is smoothed before she sits herself down, then her hands move to rest in her lap. "Having seen your great city, I can fully understand why you have kept your secrets so deeply. You have no need to apologize for prior kinds, or for the silence that they have offered. We are a patient people, we expect and want nothing more than to understand and perhaps be allies. It is very much your prior King's right to say nothing." A broad smile spreads across her face, revealing the elongated canines that all felines have. "I often find myself mistaken for a Mutant, once I went out into the world that is," she explains, that smile still in place. "I can come to understand that my appearance is really nothing more to most than that, and I accept, though the troubles that Mutant experience also tend to haunt me as a result." Her golden eyes watch his face, the expressions he offers, and his body language. There is nothing predatory in her expression, merely curiosity. This is an important day, and she doesn't want to offend this King by misreading him or the situation.
T'Challa	T'Challa places his arms at the rests built into the throne he remains in, the fingers of his hands curling slightly over the edges. "And I would not, for the decisions made by past Kings are out of my control. However, their silence has been my silence as well. As you have noticed, we are a nation with access to technology and more that others would undoubtedly kill for, and our long years of isolation is part of what has helped protect us. Should war come to Wakanda's borders, I trust in our capabilities, but war is not a thing I desire to subject my people to." He pauses to note those features, the eyes and fangs, the ears, the hint of a muzzle that doesn't quite extend outward like one would. "Whatever you are, it is true that your appearance would draw questions and looks from others who are unaccustomed to seeing you. Imagine my surprise to learn that one of our neighbors has had someone among them with such a gift, a blessing, or whatever you wish to call it. For some, it would be a curse. I can look at you and I do not believe you would agree."
Tara Tsabedze	Her head tilts slightly to the right as her golden eyes watch him, that broad smile growing more coy. "I am the living proof that the touch of Goddess Moon is real, that in this vast universe the divine still exists. My older brother is human, as is my younger sister, but I, born of a human mother and father, am Kivuli. I was born as you see me, no ritual or magics used to create me in my mother's womb... so no, I am not cursed, I am blessed beyond words." Sitting herself up a little taller, holding her head up a touch more, Tara continues softly, "This is why I serve the world, my tribe, and all people on this planet be they human, mutant, inhuman, or aliens who call it home. This means that I also exist to serve Wakanda, in whatever capacity I might be permitted to serve, and if that is to walk away and never speak of what I have seen, then that is what I will do."
T'Challa	T'Challa shifts in place before long, a hand moving instead to rest at the side of his face and cheek, partly covering his mouth in thought. "I cannot say I understand everything about the mystical side of the world, but past skepticism of mine has been answered more than once. It is not for me to question how you came to be, for you are here before me now, and I do not often distrust what my eyes show me." There is a breath he takes in, and it is very much akin to taking note of the scents around him. This one is also more than he appears. But, how? "If you have traveled the world, as I have, then you have been exposed to many things similar to what I have seen, if not the same. You know then that I am also the Black Panther, as was every King before me dating back to Bashenga. My obligations and responsibilities are great, but an attempt on my life was made recently. It was not the first and it will not be the last, but it has left me thinking again about Wakanda and our future. What we do does not exist in a vacuum. Neighboring countries do not know of our secrets, let alone the rest of the world. Routinely, I am faced with tracking down those who attempt to smuggle resources out of Wakanda. Sooner or later, it may fall into the wrong hands. We risk exposure in ways we cannot control, opposed to in ways we can." He rises, and as he walks there is no sound from his footsteps in the cavernous room. No echo, no scuffle, nothing that even reaches those feline ears of Tara's. "Inviting you for an audience may be a step toward me making that decision. It has weighed on me frequently, and once the truth is out there is no taking it back."
Tara Tsabedze	As he stands, Tara also stands. Etiquette of royalty that a subject or guest does not sit while a King is standing, and so she rises in one fluid motion so as to not offer insult. Her left ear turns slightly, as if trying to hear the movement when there is none, and this intrigues her. She had heard rumors, whispers, but eventualy the truth of the Black Panther being to the King of Wakanda was discovered. In her golden eyes there is a flash of understanding and acceptance, instantly without question. "I sought the truth of the rumor regarding the Black Panther," she says softly, following his movements with her eyes but remaining by the chair. "I am not one to believe rumors as they are first whispered, I seek the truth of them. When I heard of the Black Panther, this of course gained my interest immediately and so, I sought the truth." Clasping her hands in front of herself she offers him a soft smile. "I can understand the hesitation of revealing your country to the outside world. Once the whispers and rumors are given fact, many will try to seek out this place for the treasures you have," she gestures to the room, and then to him, to his necklace and other adornments. "I can assure you King T'Challa, my people have no interest in these things. Although I am certain there are thousands of amazing and helpful things in your country, they belong to you and your people, my people have no need for them. This might make you question why we have been persistent and patient, why we even sought to know of your country. The answer to that is simple... friendship with the panther. That is our holy duty to the panther."
T'Challa	T'Challa moves around the throne room at a slow pace, clasping his hands in back. He makes a show of casting attention on different things in there, be it a statue, a piece of artwork or an item from one of the tribes, or simply the view looking out over Birnin Zana. "The truth is all Wakandan Kings take up the mantle of the Black Panther. I am but one of many over the generations, but there is a legacy to carry on, a responsibility to my ancestors and to my people. I know that revealing the truth to the world will change things for my people. Some are ready for it and grow tired of the secrecy. Others believe we should keep what we have to ourselves. I have felt both sides of this debate." Turning back to Tara, he explains, "My father met a man from another world during the second World War. They aided each other. Now, one of the men I consider a friend and teammate is the son of my father's friend. We, along with others, have pledged to help protect this planet. Can I truly do that while I keep Wakanda hidden?" The question may be a rhetorical one. Perhaps there is a side of him that has already made up his mind. "We are a wealthy nation. There is little we cannot do, cannot obtain, cannot provide for. However, true wealth extends beyond what money brings. Can a nation and its people truly be prosperous if it lacks.." Here he pauses, extending a hand in a gesture, as if searching for the right word. "..heart? If it lacks soul? If it lacks compassion for others? I do not think it can be." The hand returns to where it had been, and he subtly activates something. The mantle of the Black Panther flows over his form, the habit around his neck, the suit replacing his outfit as the mask encloses his head. "I have responsibilities to my people, but also to the rest of the world. I would not be living up to those responsibilities if Wakanda only aided others through the veil of secrecy." The image he presents is one of strength and power, with a mysterious side to him the Panther creates. Looking to her once more, he explains, "I did not bring you here to preach to you or to hear myself speak. I am interested in the opinion of an outsider who, I think, understands the need to balance different sides. I would hear more from you, whether about anything I have told you, or something about yourself you would have me know."
Tara Tsabedze	Remaining at the chair as he paces the throne and speaks, Tara listens intently to his words. He speaks with conviction and heart, but he also speaks the truth. Her people learned long ago that the Kivuli was not just for the tribe, that is why they learn from the tribe first, then venture out into the world. As his visage changes however, and the mantle of the Black Panther slips into place, she drops to one knee and bows her head to him, just in time for him to look at her and explain why she was invited to come. "You speak the truth Majesty," she says bluntly. "That without conviction of action, words mean very little. You are the Black Panther, you have sworn to protect the world, and wear the mantle to protect your nation as well, as those before you have done." She finally looks up, but remains on that one knee. "The decision to reveal the existence of Wakanda is a dangerous one, but you have already weighed this danger with who you are, what you are, and in your heart, you have already decided what needs to be done. Follow your heart." Now she stands back to her full height, "If you wish to know all there is to me, I would gladly share it. I have no secrets so great that they must be held. I merely lack the knowledge of a starting point, or else we could be here all day and into the night with me explaining things you truly have no interest in."
T'Challa	Like this, the Black Panther displays an attitude and body language that places him as the hero he tries to be. There is a deeper confidence and certainty of himself with the mantle in place, whether he is aware of it or not. Without it, he is mostly reserved, quiet, calculating in hi words and actions. With it, there is something else to it. "It is a matter of when and how. That is on my mind, and has been since the latest attempt on my life. If the time comes tomorrow for me to join my ancestors on the green plains of the afterlife, will I do so knowing I have done all I could here? My people come first, but the Black Panther's responsibilities grow beyond merely Wakanda alone." Now he gestures toward Tara, and indicates she stand from the knee she has taken. "Rise. You are my guest here, at my invite. Tell me something of yourself that you believe exemplifies what you stand for, something that tells me of the different sides to you."
Tara Tsabedze	A slight cant of her head as she watches him, reading the changes in his body language which brings a smile to her face. He was truly what the whispers say he is, and being in his presence was an honor. It wasn't something she would say of course, but it was obvious he was touched by the Moon as well, from Bast. "What I stand for is simply the safety of all beings on this planet," she says after a moment of formulating the words in her mind. "My people believe I was brought into this world as a gift from the Goddess Moon to them and to the world, but the truth is, I came to this world /for/ this world. The magics I know, the things I can do, they are all meant to protect, defend, and heal those who cannot do so themselves." For a moment, her weight shifts on her feet and that is when he might notice that she is completely bare footed, traditional for her people, just like the gown she wears. "There are three sides to me, just as there are three castes in my tribe. This side, this form, is my birth form, it represents the religious caste of my people. My combat form is..." she pauses, reaching up to tap a claw against her chin. "... larger, more ferocious really, and represents the warrior caste. My last form is a panther, and represents the worker caste. I do not know why it is this way, only that is it. Would you like to see either of the two forms?"
T'Challa	"Then we ultimately want much the same thing," Black Panther indicates, gesturing her way again. She might note the tips of his fingers show thin slots that could fit claws. He has been seen with them numerous times. He tells her, "The information I have on you and your people is light when it comes to your abilities, and I instructed my man not to dig deeper than whatever the Paka were comfortable sharing. I determined if I was to learn more, there would come a time for it." Such as today. Moving nearer to the throne again, he retakes his seat as the Panther, not only as T'Challa, and the man watches her. "Show me, if you would like me to see them," he says to her. "It is no command. It is your choice."
Tara Tsabedze	The smile that spreads across her face is broad and bright, again showing off her elongated canines. "I have nothing to hide," she offers, for a moment turning her back to him but looking over her shoulder. Why she did this becomes clear when she reaches up and unhooks the shoulders so the gown falls off to the floor. "You are interested in knowing, and I am willing to share." Reaching out to her sides, both of her hands begin to glow with a silvery white light. Slowly she pulls them in toward her, the light spreading over her body like fire across a dry plain, blinding bright, until she is a white beacon that grows in height. When the light fades what stands before him still has the same braids of the being who had been here before, but most certainly looks nothing like she did before. "This is the form of the warrior," she says clearly, despite the change of her head. "Meant to terrorize the enemy, but I am capable of fighting just was ready in this form as any other, this merely offers superior strength."
T'Challa	It might be a good thing T'Challa has the mask of the Black Panther to hide his expression. The eyes do not even shift much, though he finds himself leaning somewhat closer after sitting more upright instead of leaning back. "Most impressive," is all he says after the change is first shown. It is a transformation neither he nor any of his people can do, no matter what gifts Bast bestows upon those who take the Heart-Shaped Herb. "And useful in battle, without question," he adds, head angled just enough toward one side so as to display curiosity.
Tara Tsabedze	Turning herself around once, to ensure he can see the full impressiveness of the form, the mouth of the panther that is her head smiles, which really looks more like a predatory sort of snarl, but what can you do? The black fur is thick enough to conceal everything on the form, no need for clothing though likely, if she wanted to, she could wear something anyway. "The warriors of the tribe can do something very similar, though it is merely an enlargement of their bodies. This is considered the true form of Goddess Moon, which is why I believe there is a link to Bast. Bast is the Goddess of the Moon, and we worship Goddess Moon, it is entirely possible they are the same." Her head tilts and again the braids fall to the side, "I am certain you have seen many panthers, and the form I take is like any panther you would see. Would you like me to return to my birth form?"
T'Challa	"It would seem too close to be coincidental," Black Panther decides of the potential connection to Bast. Some things do not require a more elaborate attempt to explain. If it looks like a panther, moves like a panther, and roars like a panther, then it probably is a panther. Back to his feet, as he takes a couple steps toward her from the throne. Before he can say more, the doors open and the two Dora Milaje guards step inside. "My King, we.." They immediately raise their spears and take up defensive positions at the size of the creature before the Black Panther, then confusion etches itself into their faces. "Damisa-Sarki.." The panther. Conflict in their eyes. To give them comfort, T'Challa holds up a hand. "Be calm. I am not in danger. Our guest is more than she appears, and she is merely giving me a demonstration. She is a very large ukatana, is she not?" A very big kitten indeed. He adds, "I can guess at what your panther form looks like, yes. It would soothe my Dora Milaje if you returned to normal, and we can allow them to see the change."
Tara Tsabedze	The doors opening cause her head to turn toward the sound, golden eyes watching the Dora Milaje with interest, but even with the raised spears, the only physical reaction is her tail flicking, and slight shift of her weight. "Of course, Majesty," she replies. "I completely understand." Lacking modesty that might other wise be needed, she had attempted to offer him some when she first changed, but now it was more important to let his guards see she was who she was. Her arms extend as before, and she pulls the light into her which allows her form to shift within the brightness. When the light fades this time, she is back to the form they has seen before, completely naked, but not seeming to have issues with it. Walking over to the gown, she picks it up to step back into, and hooks the straps back over her shoulders. "You see," she offers to the Dora Milaje. "I am still K'tara."
T'Challa	Both of the guards shield their eyes at the display of light, while the Black Panther appears not to need to. It takes quite a bit to leave them looking dumbfounded, and that is what they are now. One says, "In the name of Bast.." but their King shakes his head and gestures back toward Tara once she's donned her gown again. He tells them, "Our ambassadors to the Paka tribe have told us of tales they could not be entirely specific about, and now I have seen the truth with my own eyes. They have a protector that clearly takes after the panther as well, and this is to be treasured." The mask crawls back into nothingness, still leaving him suited but for his head. "I now understand what the Kivuli is. I trust our guests are eating well?" The guards glance toward each other and, while not entirely certain of this whole thing, the other explains, "One of them eats the chocolate as though he had never tasted it before." T'Challa arches a brow toward Tara, clearly in question, but there is a hint of amusement in the look as well. "What do you know of this?"
Tara Tsabedze	A few adjustments of the gown are made, to ensure it is hanging correctly on her body before she turns more toward T'Challa with a smile. "My people often trade for treats such as candy and chocolate," she explains. "But they are treasured treats, not something they enjoy regularly. We are not a wealthy people, what money we do have goes toward ensuring that I can maintain a life outside of the tribe, that is to say, that is what they leave the money for. I rarely touch the money, and oft return with gifts for my people to enjoy, having used that money." She takes a few steps toward T'Challa, "You see, the tribe stays mostly to itself. They will go to other villages to trade for needed items, or offer healing, but our magics often lead to concern. Much like Wakanda however, the moon is kept secret from all but our most trusted friends and allies. Aside from our magics, we really have little to offer save food, water and clothing. These things are not worth much in this world any more, but once there was a great need."
T'Challa	Finally satisfied that all is as well as can be, the guardswomen glance to each other, shake their heads, and step back out, shutting the doors once more. T'Challa flexes the fingers on his right hand, displaying the metallic claws that are made of vibranium. A brief demonstration. "I understand what you are saying, but there is one thing you are mistaken about. Food, water, clothing, and shelter always a need. They are the most important things one can have, not counting family. Without those, there is no opportunity to do more. If your basic needs are met, then you can turn to other matters." Not the attitude of a warrior King, is it? Rather, the attitude of a thoughtful King. He adds, "We will discuss matters of ensuring your people have a few more comforts, such as chocolates and toothpaste for afterward." Must be another joke. "And we will not be strangers, but we will not impose things on you, nor will we attach anything to expectations in return except to protect the secrets you and your companions have seen today. I have not yet decided how I will tell the world about Wakanda. But, perhaps we might learn more about our collective people."
Tara Tsabedze	Tara nods, once again clasping her hands in front of her. "If my people can offer aid to you and your people, you have only to ask. You and your people are gifted with a great many things mine would likely not understand," she gestures toward his metal claws. "At their core, they are simple people living a simple life, but they yearn to offer their services to aid others where they can. That is our calling you see, mine most of all." For a moment she is quiet, considering something before she seems to decide and speaks again. "Wakandan's will always be welcome with the Paka ya Mwezi, they will always be welcome on the moon. Your ambassadors have always proven to be kind, considerate and understanding, though sometimes confused at our ways. The secret of Wakanda and what was seen here will remain secret, those who came with me will be sworn to secrecy about what they have seen until such time as you choose other wise. You have our friendship King T'Challa, and our sworn promise to maintain the secret."