She did not know if the beast had taken her follow and accompanied her to the fields, but she continued on regardless. There was no set plan or idea in mind, all she knew was that she had to get him away from her family. She had to get him away from Diveen, and she had hopefully done just that.

Glancing over her crimson and snow splashed shoulder, vivid violet eyes search for the reptilian green of the other, eyes so reminiscent of Elijah and yet belonging to the dark one alone. For while Ambrosia had met many a wolf in her short travels thus far in life, there was a certain gleam to Tobias’ gaze that she seldom saw within others. It was that ravenous hunger she saw, and the fact that it was slightly calmed when his attention was on her was.. promising. But even the angel girl did not know what would be the outcome of all of this, and if she would even escape with her life. She had heard once of an Aunt that had courted the Black Prince, but did not know much more than that. Now she understood that it had resulted in Elijah, and perhaps even more than just him.

It made perfect sense now, to why there had been tension surrounding him and as to why the others treated him as they did; he was the son of Tobias and an angel, as crossed as any creature could be. But one’s heritage, one’s parentage did not necessarily mold a child. Ambrosia was prime example of that, for where her sire was rash and critical, egotistical at its finest- the young wolf was nothing close to that. She was as sweet as her namesake and the powdered sugar that brushed her shoulders as well as the top of her muzzle. Anxious eyes once again roam to just behind her, searching for any sign of him, hoping, wishing, praying that he had come. But who knew what the Black Prince would do, perhaps he had already lost interest and was well on his way.

Perhaps he was truly just behind her, following her to this place until it was she came to a stop, pivoting on pristine white paws to face him. They had already broken the treeline that marked Diveen, and were now closer to the lake than the pack territory. Wanting to catch his venomous gaze with her own, she was intent on him, though her body language was aimed toward the ground above all else. She would keep this posture, aiming not to provoke him so that she might have time to observe, to watch, to study. She gave no words as no words were needed, that was for certain. The most she gave was a subtle whine, one of particular need to see if she could perhaps draw him out. The star dusted angel marked girl was playing with death itself, and it would be a miracle in itself for her to come out unscathed, let alone alive.