Even if she does not know it, Camilla is almost always with Semele- if not always. And if she is not exactly with her, she is close by and never too far. Since the death of Ifrit, some things had remained as they were and others were totally different. One of those totally different things was Semele, and each day bright green eyes watched pale green set in their red and creme frame. Every little thing there was to know and learn Camilla knew it, taught herself it, and every day she took time to herself to hone and practice her skills. She did not speak like the others- partly because she did not want and partly because she could not. But that did not mean she was full of strength and power, for in her silence the young wolf was learning to adapt and embrace.

Now is such time, as she follows her little sister but she does not interfere; no, she remains at a distance as the little one cries and moves out and away from the den after the little... confrontation. Camilla herself did not honestly think anything of it- Everlyse was their Mother, and now sole caretaker, but that was as far as it went for the black wolf. She provided and that was the jist of it, not at all like Semele who had loved their parents more than life itself. Love would maybe well describe what the eldest sister felt toward the youngest, but it was a slim maybe. Mostly it was basic and primal raw instinct, for while the brothers could keep their own, she did not think that their youngest sibling could. Thus she was always present, whether it be in the background or foreground, just beside her flesh and blood or not at all.

It is only when Semele settles down in one spot, shaking in her turmoil and anguish that Camilla makes her approach. With trademark silence, the dark sister positions herself close to her sisters side so that pale fur may mingle with her own dark pelt. Warmth and comfort linger between them, all for the sake of Semele, and emerald irises await the opening of pale sage ones. But before that moment can happen, and as it seems the littlest one is more tired than originaly thought, her dark skull is turning toward the sudden appearance of another. No sound is given, no warning growl or words, and no physical gesture other than the turning of her skull and repositioning of her body so that she remain between stranger and sister. Emerald eyes watch the other, the eventual wafting over of her scent telling Camilla of Diveen, allies and neighbors to the South. The strangers own words may very well rouse Semele, and in this case she watches with an air of calmness that will last so long as the peace does.

For the time being, the dark daughter of the bloody baron is content to remain at her sisters side, watching the stranger in whatever endeavors she might partake in while awaiting the might be arousal of her sister. If need be, Camilla would give a few licks to the small cheek of the little one, watching her then with careful eyes if only to make sure her well being was, well, well.