What had his father been thinking? He could not say. All he knew was that initially, it had been tremendously frustrating to not have been the one to inherit the pack. After all, Astaroth was Lillith's son. And Andras'. That qualified him already, right? Plus, he was strong. Alphas had to be strong. So why had his father chosen Aithne and why so suddenly? It still made no sense to him but, at least, he did not grumble so openly about it. Eventually, he had seen how unwell his father looked and it... at least made some parts of it all make sense. Maybe his father was afraid that his son would get sick, too, or hurt like Naberius and Siren had been. Astaroth liked to imagine that was the case. Pretending his father would care that much was a pleasant thought, especially when he did not have Denali around to give them to him otherwise.

Still, it put his rank into question and despite his usual (relative) contentedness with not working all that hard, he suddenly realized he would have to. After all, he did aspire to be something - something big, strong and well known - but he had been able to ride off his blood for some time. Now, he had to show them all that he was the right man for any job, particularly those he aspired to take on. He had to be sure his mother and father's legacy would not be swallowed up by the swamps, and he had to be sure that he would be able to keep what remained important to him safe and alive. Maybe he would even be able to find Siren if he held some kind of power. There were a lot of maybes, lots of questions that swarmed him like flies as he sought after their new Empress. His new Empress. It still sounded strange.

With the spring melt, the swamps had become even more risky. Water swelled between the banks and turned stable land to mush, proving to be quite a challenge for him as he attempted to track her scent through the reeds and mist. Wherever she was, he would find her but he would not look his best doing so. Already, his legs and stomach dripped with thick mud as he pushed on through the marshes, ever gaining ground on her. He was a monstrous thing, appearing even larger than his father, and it showed with his slow, lumbering strides that seemed to push even the young alligators out of his way. He found a quiet pleasure in that. At least, he figured, if it came down to a fight to prove his worth, he'd damn well crush whoever might stand up to him. Where his mother had failed to fight back, he would not.

"Aithne?" He finally called out for her as he rose onto one of the more solid, expansive pieces of territory towards the center of the pack. Her scent was relatively fresh and he let out a hoarse, short howl to alert her of his presence wherever she might be. The mist was thick and swirled around the island and within it, he waited as patiently as possible, his toes wriggling idly in the dirt below him. This would be... well, he did not know what would happen. He just had to try for once.