It almost felt strange that she was back. She had been gone for much longer than any other and yet, he had never had a doubt about her doing fine out there. At times, he had contemplated venturing out in search of her but... she would have gotten so far. Perhaps some part of him had hoped that Maradona or Judas might have found her when they had gone on their own pilgrimages. For whatever reason, though, she had come back to her home. Cersei had been ecstatic about it, her sister filling the holes that had begun to form as their family began to shift in its dynamics. With Maradona and Caligula gone, large parts had been cut away not only in the pack but in his life, and thus, his childrens' lives. He should have found her sooner but he could not change the past - it was done. All that mattered is that she had returned and now he had the opportunity to at least make things feel more right.

It had been brief but it had been decided; they'd meet even if it felt strange to be meeting under such circumstances. Even a part of him was hesitant - nervous? - at the prospect. What expectations had she returned with? What lessons had she learnt the hard way, or the easy way? What if she came bearing news he did not wish to hear? There were so many possibilities and he supposed she must think the same thing. Of course, the burden a father carried always seemed heavier than his own children. He had to keep it all together and shield her from the things she best not know for the time being. Nonetheless, they had agreed to meet and he had to ignore those fleeting moments of hesitancy. Instead, he had to take to the well worn paths of Glorall's innards and find her; that was his first job as a father.

It took him a short while before he found the correct scent, tailing it along the crumpled grass until he caught sight of the dark girl from behind. She was unmistakable in her appearance and he knew instinctively that it was her - he'd never get that wrong, at least. A father knew when he saw his children even if they were just blurs on the horizon. It had been one of the first things he had learnt when he and Caligula had decided to spread their souls into others. Rather than take her by surprise, he let out a hoarse bark as he picked up into a jog, coming up along side her left flank before leveling out beside her. He kept his pace with her, their limbs seemingly moving in sync as he examined her for a moment; he saw the age in her face now, the face of a mature woman, and yet he saw no... pain, he supposed. For whatever reason, he found it comforting to think that perhaps the outside world had not been cruel to her whereas he now jogged on littered with a myriad of scars. Sometimes the familiar was more dangerous, it seemed.

"Octavia, I'm glad you've come today. I feel like there is a whole world that we need to talk about."

Past, future and now - they had so much, or at least, he knew he did. Eventually, he would need to confirm with her what she likely already knew: she had more siblings now, and her mother had left along with her sister, Maradona, some time ago. Glorall had been through rough times and the world around them, too, had changed. He needed to teach her all that he could once more - and in turn, he hoped she had something to teach him. Moladion was but a small part of the world, after all.

"When you were born, your mother and I had nothing and yet, you thrived. You've always been a survivor. I apologize for having never found you before now... I just always had faith that you knew what you were doing. Was I wrong?"

He had to get this out of the way first, regardless. He had to know that he had no managed to break a bond between his daughter and himself. For now, the whole world could wait. He wanted to know what was happening in their world.