I think I ignore blood and the meaning behind it simply because my blood holds no meaning. I mean compare my blood to others and I am insignificant. That is not something I want to feel, ever. So, I try not to think about it. Instead I am concerned about my actions. I want to make sure that I never act as my Father. I do not want to appear weak to others, I do not wish to cower at their presence, and I certainly do not want to carry the same rank as he did. Just because he is my Father doesn’t mean I have to follow in his paw steps. I wish I could understand why Diveen and Iromar are not supposed to get along, but I haven’t seen either pack attack one another. In fact those Angelic wolves were kind of enough to help me after I had been attacked…and they didn’t really have to. Which worries me slightly that I might have some unpaid debt to give them that I really should get that handled before it comes back to bite me. Yet my thoughts on such matters must take another hold because as Eden speaks I simply tilt my ebony skull to the other side in a curious manner. His smile concerns me, if only slightly, because I haven’t seen a wolf smile as much as he before. With a flick of my crimson ear I hear a familiar vernacular and I cannot help but allow my tail to sway side to side in a happy manner.

Tu quoque loqui Latinum?
“You speak Latin too?”

I have heard rumors that Demons were not the only ones that could speak the language. Mother had taught me. Yet she was no Angel or Demon. Mother was not from around here and I am not sure if she was pleased that others knew of the language or not, but she said it would be important that I learn this ability. As he comes closer to me I am unsure if I like how his eyes seem to travel up and down my form. His close proximity catches me off guard and I cannot help, but move in his opposite step. Not necessarily backing away, but keeping in tune with well, whatever he was trying to do. I am not used to be looked upon and in a small way I do not mind him looking at me. So long as he isn’t staring at the wound Tobias had done to me. That patch of fur is still growing in. I know I am not a very pretty thing to look at, but it is a part of me that I try to not show off. As I move to copy his movements’ one of my crimson paws meets the murky earth and I lose my ground slightly, my shoulder and side brushing into his. There is warmth there, a warmth I haven’t felt before, but it only last for seconds. Quickly I recover and manage to place my faulty paw back on solid earth leaning myself away from him as I manage to stop the circling we have done. Lifting my head some I turn it away, partly because I am embarrassed, but also because I am cautious.

I mean I am moving in circles with a white wolf that is from the Angel line. Actually I even touched a creature that we are supposed to despise. I surely hope no one else has witnessed this. I know we are a pack that stays within the shadows and reeds, but shouldn’t we be a bit more public in our appearance? I mean how are we going to appear intimidating if we keep hiding. That he would come for a tour is surely a trick, a ploy, and yet I somewhat believe him. My violet eyes shift back towards him as I simply stare at him and ponder in silent thought. It would not hurt I think to allow him to enter at least part of our lands. Proper protocol states he should have called for one of us to come, but maybe I stopped whatever secret agenda he had. If he wants to tour I can show him parts of the swamp and I at least keep him away from the others. Nodding my head I provide him a kind smile. The moon’s rays catching on to my red markings, the ruby that was stated boldly upon the middle of my forehead seems to shine brighter than before. My hoarse voice is gentle as I try to bring about our plans together, hopefully he hadn’t meant me touching him earlier.

“There really isn’t much to see here. Just swamp, muck, mud, and some other creatures. There is a lot of gators would you like to see one?”