Work was slow, or perhaps it would be better said that Astaroth was slow this day. The borders had been looked at, at least, and otherwise not a whole lot had happened during his morning. Most of it had been spent lazing in the sun on his back, absorbing all the heat he could before trudging through the cool marshes in search of an easy snack. Really, his life was painfully easy. Perhaps it was a precursor for something rather... drastic occurring but if that were the case, well, Astaroth was completely in the dark. As far as he was concerned, it was because he was doing his job at keeping the unworthy at bay and his father was doing the rest. He hadn't a worry in the world except for one: one monstrously sized worry.

Denali had gone missing, see, or as missing as one could go in Iromar. He hadn't spotted her all morning and it... distressed him. He contemplated what deplorable males might have stolen her from him - it was the only logical deduction. Why would women want her? She was small, so why would the alligators want her? There was only one big, savage creature that was permitted her and that was Astaroth himself. Her absence had quickly turned his slow morning into one of frustration, his stocky body moving over every inch of Iromar in the search for her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to just... stand around with her. Maybe he would teach her how to not be so small... something. He just wanted her really, though that thought was a difficult one to grasp. He still hadn't made sense of any of it.

Eventually, he gave up with a heavy sigh, his ears flattening back as he snorted at the invisible borders. All his roaming had made him... tired thanks to his mammoth size. He'd have to continue his search later, he figured, with one final glare into the outside regions of Iromar. With that, he spun to return to his island abode, squelching and sinking his way there as fast as possible. Maybe she'd gone home. Yes, maybe! It felt right to be going back to the den, after all, and Denali was easily associated with those feelings of right. Or he might have just been eager to lay down and bask once more - really, he was not entirely sure. Either way, there was the tiniest of waves to his tail as he bounced his way onto the banks of the den's private island.

Then he smelt it: blood. Delicious, fresh blood. From the den? He paused at the mouth, glaring in for a moment before he lowered his nostrils and sucked in a deep breath. Of course, the scent of Denali was always there but beaver? Not so much. His muzzle broke into a dark grin as his eyes found the rough outline of the beaver's body, his tail waving behind him.

"Silly beaver - why did you come here to die? Now, we will eat you."

He sounded all too cheerful about the prospect, but his own mention of 'we' made him snort and recoil, glancing around once again.

"Whenever she comes back, at least."