It is a walking dream that he is in. Zaphkiel is almost tempted to slip into the star realm in which his mother has gifted him through her dna. It was the very thing that had led him astray from Molodian for he had been so immersed in his other sight that he had forgotten the world that he walked in. Yet since he had found Gaia and more purpose here in his homeland Zaphkiel was less prone to visiting the other realm, as he called it, where stardust coated everything and the galaxy spread out before him. Yet the need of his imprint is of far greater import in his life than his need to see beyond; she calls to him, her soul a song that repeats over and over in his head, and Zaphkiel cannot deny it.

He drifts towards her through the snow and the hushed silence of the night. Yellow eye watches the way she realizes that he has come for her and her delight explodes through his chest and sends shock waves down his body. Zaphkiel's fur rises in response along his spine for she is electricity to him, invigorating, and his heart thumps hard once against his chest in response to the joyous expression on her face as she moves towards him. No wonder his mother and father always pressed into each other so often. Or the way they doted upon one another for such a bond as theirs seemed more significant now that he had his own.

Zaphkiel cannot stop the roguish smile as he feels the embarrassment that Gaia feels - or is it a pleasurable embarrassment? Her laugh confirms it and a very gentle sigh is released at the sound, exalting in it, in her, staring at her as if his eye can consume her. "You can never be a lowly wolf," he replies smoothly with a husky tone. Oh how he wishes to crowd her, to bury himself into her fur and to show her the wonders of the world. To protect her from those who would harm her and from those who would hurt her.

Gaia leans down to touch his head and he turns his head to the side so that his right eye can peer up at her even as she moves her nose down below his chin and presses up. He lifts his maw though he lets it rub against her own as he does so, his eye locked on her right green one. Drowning in it and rejoicing in it; there is an intensity in Zaphkiel that is focused solely upon Gaia in this moment while her voice fills his lobes. My Starlord. His eyes sparkles at the word, a fierce swelling of pride making his chest puff out and his tail rise in response for Zaphkiel is easy to please with such flattery. What storyteller didn't like to have his own key name? Yet from her it held such a weight as never before.

"Nothing would please me more," he answers, enjoying the way her eyes fall despite the feeling of happiness that dances within his own chest. He turns now to look out at the world of the mountains with the dark sky above them broken by the beautiful white flakes drifting slowly down and he takes a step forward, pausing for a moment to see if she will come up to his side. "You are like a flower against the snow, so lovely and fragile." Where she felt embarrassed by her words Zaphkiel is confident, the setting around them perfect for some magical story. "How does a Princess of Asteraia come to live in the mountains of Spirane, assuming the title of lowly when she is anything but?"