Mariette gives a slight nod of the head in response to Jack's returned greeting, the french, and the accent which betrayed it as his native language, as it is that of she and her sister, is pleasant, despite her general tendency to not be a particularly nostalgic individual. The young, by vampire standards, woman had spent several of her first decades in this form mourning her humanity, due partially to the conditions under which she had been forcible shifted, and at some point had realized the utter pointlessness in that wistfulness. Soon after this decision, she had reunited with Genevieve, her younger sister whom she hadn't realized had been turned as well, during her absence. Had Genevieve found her prior to those several decades, Mariette would definitely be a much different person than she is now, and certainly would never have cared to make any sort of attempt at leading a coven. While the woman might not have the years of experience of several of the senior members, she did have many densely packed years of trials. Her reasoning for joining a coven had been mostly wrapped around the idea that Genevieve would prefer it, not that she would ever admit to this, and following that, her becoming the leader had been almost accidental.
What's done is done, though, and she'd rather not allow the power to slip during this moment. The last thing the coven needs right now, while trying to forge peace with the werewolves and deal with the Cacciatori, is a power struggle. Such a thing is unnecessary and seems almost trivial when faced with trying to keep the coven safe in its entirety. It is not without these things in mind that Mariette returns Astrid's brief smile of greeting. The woman is, from what Mariette fears, more well-liked, and is certainly older, though by how much she does not know for certain. Perhaps it is just a hunch that she sees Astrid as the most likely to try something, and it is for that reason that Mariette does nothing. She tries to avoid action based on 'feelings'. Mariette nods at Zakhar, who greets her in his ever-polite manner.
She watches Jack and Astrid, from the corner of her eyes and in such a way that is noticeable but dismissive, as Astrid decides to shirk wolf companionship, and eventually leaves with Jack, wearing clothing that Mariette finds reminiscent of a plumber, for whatever reason. Darcy is clearly not happy with the fact that they are leaving, but Mariette, too, realizes that the wolves are likely going out on a hunt now. Besides, Astrid, she is confident, can deal with any major issues, and hopefully they will avoid antagonizing the wolves should they run into them while out. Hopefully.
As the room clears out significantly, Mariette finds herself alone in the guest kitchen, but for Zakhar, quiet as usual and absorbed in his own thoughts. He finally reacts to the emptiness as Mariette takes a quiet sip of her tea, the smile curling at his mouth familiarly. He proceeds to put into words an observation of the obvious, with a tinge of what Mariette perceives as amusement in his voice.
Mariette, for her own part, is surprisingly indifferent regarding the wolves. This is to say that, while she doesn't hold any real dislike for them, nor does she find herself itching to make their acquaintances. They are people passing by on the street, a bland shopkeeper, the person standing quietly on the other side of the elevator. Well, they mostly were, at least, until recently. Fate has played its hand quite interestingly. "Well, they are entitled to their opinions, so long as it doesn't seep into their behavior, I suppose," she responds, setting her tea down and stirring it absentmindedly with a spoon. Mariette glances over at Zakhar, curious as to his expressed interest in the werewolves.
"They do have their curious aspects, don't they? Well, regardless of all that, Astrid and Darcy and all else will just need to put up with it for now. We have more important things to worry about than their petty disdain," she adds, despite being nearly certain that someone might hear it. There always seems to be ears listening, no matter how safe one believes they are from outside observers. Mariette eyes Zakhar's journal briefly, before returning to her tea for another drink.