Feral eyes of the brightest gold flecked with bloody crimson scan the entire area slowly, taking in every detail for all it was worth. After Suomi had taken her leave of him, her direction being toward Taviora, Emry had gone elsewhere. To the SouthWest, where the river lay flowing from the base of the mountains to the heart of the marshlands. Blood pumped hot and thick through his veins, adrenaline spiking his movement and allowing him to cover the distance in a rather short time. That, and his long legs allowed him such a generous stride. And regardless of all of this, blood still continued to subtly drip from his face, where her teeth had torn fur and flesh alike, leaving him undoubtedly permanently scarred. Not that he was against, it, of course- the simple fact that she had marked him in such a way rather pleased the silver and black phantom.

But she was now back home, safe again, or so Emry was lead to believe, and in that, he was content. He knew where to find her, where she would be; she would not be leaving him again, under any circumstance. And just as much as he knew, he also knew that now, she knew. And much as she fought it, the wolf knew she could not resist, just as he. They were so similar and yet so different and yet not at all, it was almost unsettling. Almost. But it took a lot for the Grandson of Devil May Cry to be shooken up, though there was a certain wild, instinctual glaze to his gaze and his facade. He could not help it, for it was a natural reaction for him when facing her down. She simply.. made him feel so alive, so very much on fire like he was going to get burned. Scorched and charred to a crisp, and yet, it never happened. The most he had gotten thus far was a few kisses to the face, if one could even call it a kiss, though such a thought has a malicious grin spreading across his features. Oh yes, she had kissed him well, and he had returned the favour, if only a little bit.

But now was perhaps the time to.. nurse such wounds, for when one did not take care of ones self things would surely fester and putrify. Thus, stalking on silent, massive pitch black paws, Emry is making his way to the edge of the river. Not quite yet frozen over, he's able to take a long drink at his leisure, black and silver laced ears upon his skull twitching this way and that, to catch any sound of any sort of creature on the approach. The dark wolf is not one so easily snuck up on, ever on the alert and aware of most things around him. Though he is large, he knows his strength and his capabilites, just as he knows most others with a simple glance of his fire eyes. Let whomever might come, come, and face their Fate in lieu of his very powerful and very square jaw. For while he was in a rather sadistic mindset, he was not so far gone that he would lash out blindly. At least, that was what he told himself, but in these sorts of moments, one might never know if the beast were raging or placid and calm. Looks can be decieving, and lack of aggressive posture can be very misleading for any passerbyer who knows not their ultimate fate.