Penthesilea returned her own gaze. A stoic gaze, an unnerving expression to anyone who didn't know her. To anyone else she would have been frightening and many would have turned tail. She seemed devoid of expression, though inside she was actually nervous about being there.
She stood as a warrior awaiting permission to speak, or else to approach. When it was Hippolyta who came to her she didn't seem surprised. Only for a split second did she feel a sense of warmth and relief as her sister hugged her. It wasn't full of joy and love and all those things that usually came with embracing someone. It was simply a warrior embracing her leader with as little emotion as was possible. Expressing emotions was foreign to her. All she had ever known was fighting and hunting and crushing any fear that threatened her.