The pair continued to speak politics that were beyond Ambrosia's reach, but it wasn't that she was ignorant to them. She knew of them, and would one day perhaps step forward to learn more- but her true interests lay elsewhere. But the knowledge she was offered is a valuable thing, and one she would never take for granted. She is attentive in her violet gaze painted with the past, her Grandmother peering through in the emerald shards that lace her irises. Ambrosia continues to gaze evenly between the elders, giving them equal attention though occasionally lingering on one or the other. When her Grandfather speaks of another pack and an attack- where a wolf had a limb removed, the young stardusted angelmarked girl is tilting her graceful, still growing skull to the left. Another with a limb missing- only three legs. That would be an interesting thing, and though there is a certain sorrow with this knowledge, there is also a vivid and intense curiosity.

But Ambrosia does not voice this, as it is not her way. Her way is to gaze on in silence- Little Dove, Grandfather Heyel had called her, and it had brought a small and gentle smile upon her delicate lips. He was so different than everyone spoke of him, and she wondered at this. Perhaps he was simply different with her, though to even imagine him as others portray him.. it was something else entirely. The older wolves speak freely, but the young one knows that they are also holding back. And this is proven even more so when Heyel veers the subject away to a new matter, rising to his feet and giving her a gentle nudge. Without any hesitation or fault, Ambrosia is rising to her rather large paws and following just after her purely alabaster kin, content to seat herself beside him after he makes himself comfortable. She is now actually just between the two wolves- the smaller, earth coloured wolf on her right and the King of the Angels at her left.

He inquires the loner wolf, Iblis, to give a story, a tale, causing her plush white tail to sway ever so slightly. It was always a pleasant thing, to simply listen and learn from others. Some didn't thirst for knowledge as Ambrosia did, and that was alright. They had their own ways. But it was with a bright and wide gaze that she settled in comfortably, watching the now center of attention as he began his tale. At one point he winked at the girl, bringing a rather sweet smile to her features as well as a single huff of a chuckle. He was a charmer, this Iblis, and Ambrosia wondered at the luck of his one he calls Rhae. The way he speaks of her- she can simply tell that they share the soul bond her parents do, and part of her crumbles a bit inside at the sheer joy in his tones. She will never have that, for she is broken and lacks the other half that so many seek out but may or may not find. This more than probably showed in her gaze or features then, for the girl had no reason to hide such things. She didn't even think to hide it- it was just something that came to her in passing as she listened. But just like that, he is moving on and delving deeper into his tale.

It all seemed so brave to her, so courageous- and she knew that she was in the company of some of the most experienced and fine wolves she would ever meet. There was so much to learn- so many questions that could be asked, but where to even begin? And to bombard one with so many questions- well, it just wasn't polite. And as a lady of not only the angel bloodline, but also of the stardusted royalty that Andromeda holds- the young, graceful thing is always minding her manners and always being polite. Some used this as a way to suck up to others, but for Ambrosia it was simply a natural thing. She wanted to be kind, she wanted to be helpful. She truly was interested and the sincerity of it all was obvious in her each day.

And when Iblis tosses the spot light to Heyel, her intense gaze follows suit, watching her Grandfather before her soft, gentle and oh so very thoughtful words slip forth. "What happened then, Avus?" Her use of the latin term for Grandfather was something that came so natural to her- when speaking with her parents, she was keen on using the old language and if ever mentioning Heyel it was her preferred word. Not that they ever spoke much of him- her Father had a vendetta it seemed against his own Father, something Ambrosia knew of and somewhat understood, though in this interaction with Heyel.. she was seeing a whole different side to him, she knew. And she wanted to know more, and so waited with patience between the pair, comfortable in their presence and their wisdom.