For so long I have wanted to meet my more elusive relatives, and yet when I do meet Ruvindra, I find that my attentions cannot stay upon her as they should. Why is it that an Iromar girl drags my eyes away from her so easily? I have never held any particular interest in females quite yet, I am interested in everyone as unique individuals. Yet, I find that my natural curiosity for my own blood in the form of Ruvindra keep being over ridden. I cannot explain why or how, but I just want to take a look at the dark woman, to know every aspect of her features and...ensure no one mistreats any of them.

I would say that is a ridiculous thought but it really isn't in many respects. I am a very protective man, and if I considering you friend, family, or of innocence, I am driven to protect you. Yet I would say this drive is...insanely strong for a stranger that isn't exactly fitting any of that criteria in this very moment. My eyes flare back to Ruvindra as she speaks of my father, her words...confusing in some regard. Firstly, I was mildly distracted, second, when the words did process, it seemed to only bring about more questions in my head. My mother was her daughter, and my father was an heir as well? I find my head tilting slightly, my brows furrowing with thought.

It was hard to think though. I could not formulate words in relation to my questions for Ruvindra, hearing her name confirmed. My thoughts were jumbled, the face of Aithne flashing before me. I looked back at the green-eyed woman, my questions almost completely forgotten. My ear flickers toward Ruvindra as she speaks, Yes, that is right, I am her grandson, that much is certain, and she may be the only grandmother I will ever have. I take a breath in, managing to look back at Ruvindra and gather enough words and thoughts to reply to her in a...proper manner.

"Ruvindra, Grandmother, I wish we could have gotten to know each other, perhaps, it is not too late," I say with a nod, giving her right to leave if she so chose. I do wish I was given the right to know my Grandmother. I am unsure of whose...fault it is that she was out of my life, and I am sure it is more complicated than I could image.

Yet the Iromar woman steps forward, her form demanding my attention and I do give it to her. She gives me her name, her voice hoarse. Aithne. I will never forget that name as it clings to my ears. I am not one to judge her voice, and I think it is perhaps...perfect how it is.

"Praetor, of Glorall, in fact, I am here to see if anyone from Iromar would like a tour of Glorall in good faith. Would...you like to come with me?" I ask, a sudden rush of blood to my brain as my heart begins to pump wildly in anticipation. I feel each and every breath as I await her answer, for what feels like forever. I...don't want to be denied. I have never particularly cared about denial to such a question before. I am a laid back guy, going with the flow like the ocean during a calm morning. Yet now, I feel as if rejection would be...absolutely crushing, and I am finding the physical anticipation almost nauseating. I do not know what I would do if she told me to go away and never come back. I cannot believe it...matters so much.