He can see and sense what energy that Avery has. It reminds him...of himself, before he was cursed and blessed with the tie to Lillith. How different it was before such a bond, how independent and ravaging he was. Now? After the bond, without her, he did not go back to being what he was. Change was an inevitable beast that tore at his heart. Avery is what he should be in many ways, but he is simply never to be as he once was, and he knew it as Avery stood before him.

Yet he cannot control his drive for his fangs to lash out, to let them grasp onto her muzzle and shake it roughly. She does not flinch or draw back- she takes it although he will not draw blood nor break no bone. She does not show outward aggression in response, but a strength that is only flared in her eyes. He knows she has the stuff inside of her to make her great. He knows she can help lead the wolves here into a new era, a new power that perhaps he could never help Iromar get. He speaks his words, the truth heavy instead of them, although he doubted they would please the stubborn girl before him.

She would not stay silent though. She did take her time to think out her words, and she was not...stupid by any means. Her upbringing and blood may not be the best of all things, but he had ensured to give her a chance to rise above her unfortunate circumstances. He didn't want to particularly take too much credit for it, but he was the only one to be her strength in her times of weakness. He was the one who brought her back to the pack- he was not to abandon her like her mother and father. It was odd, that Avery and Raven both looked up to him, saw him in such a way, but their energies and essences were so...different. Avery was like the sun- hot and burning, deadly within the heat. Raven was like the moon, shrouded in silence and darkness. So different and he knew deep down...he had impacted them both.

There was always a conviction with her words, and it did cause his red hackles to fall a bit. She did believe in his own being, separate from Lillith, as a strong and stable leader of
Iromar. Oh, how he wished he could be such a thing any longer. He had to love the bond between him and Lillith, but he wished it did not shatter him to pieces once her body turned cold. He wish he could be as he was, but he could hear her hissing call. Her whisper did cause his head to lean back a bit. They were terribly close from when his jaws clamped onto her muzzle.

It was moments of breathing. Breath between breath. A silent calm of life in an air so cold. A realization of a bond that perhaps he had been distracted from. The bond between him and those who are actually alive. The tie to those of Iromar and to the young girl before him. He rolled his shoulders as he straightens in the silence, only the sound of crickets and small movements of water. He simply stares at her with his sunset eyes, burning and yet fading until he blinks slowly. He reaches out with his muzzle, to go around to the back of her neck if she allows, to pull her into a sort of wolfish hug of sorts.

"I am here, at least, for now," he says in a bit softer of a voice, inhaling her scent before he looks off into the bog of Iromar. He knew it would not be long, he would teach her as much as he could, but there is only so much he can give her. It is something she would have to come to accept.