It is perhaps the thrashing of the water that draws the elusive giant of Diveen, heavy paws falling in a manner of silence that so betrays his bulk and yet perhaps gives way to the Art for which he is trained, eyes of reptilian green set aglow within the gloom of the echoing caverns that see the black-headed beast search for the sound of splash and thrash that so seems to resound within those rocky walls. He is a curious creature, in some regards, a life so long sheltered, so very deprived of social interaction assuring that the male is given to find a sense of wonderment in things seemingly so commonplace. Yet he had been right to hide, right to be concealed away within the depths of Diveen until it was he had achieved his full and towering bulk and height, a true force to be reckoned with and a….deterrent against the sire whom had forever sought the blood of his son. He is not in possession of the madness that so claims Tobias and his need to feed, yet perhaps that thirst for some form of chaos exists still within his soul, his being, his other half whom exists within the confines of his skull and whispers words of torment to his mind, else offers opinions most unwanted.

Yet, so many years spent with Ego have seen a comradery of sorts begin to form between Angel and Demon forced to share this single form. They are stronger together. Elijah knows this surely as well as Ego, though the latter so often chooses to believe otherwise even despite the proof and success of their unity. When mind and body are as one, after all, they are capable of things truly great, terrible, yet great. It is when they war within themselves that this shared body seems so incapable of persisting. For now, Elijah continues to rule, driven towards the rioting sound as Ego watches from behind field eyes. He is easily the more wary of the pair, it is his influence that sees each muscle grow tense and silent with caution, his control that sees ears pricked and a ready growl resting upon his lips lest this cave should prove to be taken and yet it is Elijah, ever practical, whom lifts his nose to the air to taste of the scent that grows more potent as water dampens her fur. It is…female, of this he is certain, bloodied red heckles remaining flat for now as Elijah moves forward still, hulking frame halted upon the entrance to the open pit within which the female bathes, emerald eyes resting upon her now, observing her, watching her- before that handsome young head tilts to one side.

“Why is it the wrong colour?”

His voice is smooth, baritone, easy as is slips from his lips, features given to remain expressionless still as his gaze finds her own, as if he neither seemingly cares for an answer nor expects one, speaking simply because it is an accepted social norm and yet he remains standing, head lifted in a dominant manner, tail curled higher as is the way of one whom possesses so very much Alpha blood and perhaps possesses just as much desire to stand above those around him- a desire that is buried for now, hidden, misunderstood perhaps- though for how long cannot be said. She is edgy, nervous, her tension palpable though he simply remains where he stands, an odd creature to be sure whom displays the stance for domination and attack- yet remains entirely…neutral. For now.