The words that flow from her lips; it is akin to a prayer, and not lost on Emry. He had been born in the Angel City, after all, where all of its inhabitants claimed to be miraculous and the best of any of them. It had always been something to make him scoff- only, this female. Well, unlike the angels of Diveen, this strange wolf sincerely believed in what she spoke of. He knew simply by looking at her, that though it might have been brainwash, it was still drilled into her mind like it was a normal, every day thing. Golden irises narrow in contemplation of her as he give snothing but silence at the echo of the word she had called him. Lucor. It did not mean anything to him, but, Emry also felt that it was.. perhaps not a kind thing. Not that it particularly mattered, but it also had him curious to this strange wolves mind. Was she slight of mind much as she was slight of frame?

Turning his skull to glance sideways at her, he took a moment to speak, repeating her name back to her if only so he might recall it better. "Noxa, I am Emry. I am no descendant of any fallen or risen. I might have been raised with the angels but I am not one of them." Judging by the state of her and her demeanor, she belonged no where and with no one. If anything, she was probably one of the many wolves to have stumbled upon Moladion from the outside world. A place Emry had been to, but never spent much time in. He wondered where exactly she was from- one so small and so slight could only survive well in the south or at least somewhere particularly warm often. In the cold- even here, now, in the snow, she had to be cold; not that it was his concern, of course. A passing thought was just that, a passing thought and nothing more. But if anything, Noxa probably did not know the angels or of them, and in a rare chance Emry is almost feeling.. kind.

"The angels are white and red wolves of Diveen, who think they are superior above all else. They hold no wings, and are hardly risen." The dark male wondered vaguely if it was enough for her, if it would make any sense to her. But, then again, she had uttered a prayer not unlike those the angels coveted- and such a thought has another thought sparking in his head. This is perhaps the most he has taken, or even spoke to someone in years. Even Suzy he spoke minimally with, though, they had only just reuinited after all. "Do you know Latina?" For while he was no angel, he had grown up with them- and indeed he did know their language, for that was what they spoke. But did she? With a ticking patience that could only wear so much, he watched her for the answers he expected to come- wondering, yet again, if he would get anything out of this at all.