The presence that startled her hardly had any true reason to do so. For when bright violet gaze falls upon the golden boy before her, so reminiscent of cousin Achilles that her signature sweet smile adorns her features while she completely relaxes. He is obviously a wolf of Spirane, and a very young one at that. And it's really all it takes for Ambrosia to feel right at home, even if she has never before been to the mountain. Even if she has never before met this wolf, he is of Spirane and thus friend to her. There was only one way Ambrosia had ever greeted her friends in life, and the fact of the border hardly dispelled her from committing to it. In fact, his presence was all it took for her to step forward and close the five feet between them to a close nothingness. Pressing her beautifully slender shaped muzzle against his shoulder for a moment, she then withdraws to look upon him at eye level, lowering her skull in the process. She had also backed away to give him space if he so wished it- she might always give her own peculiar greeting but she well understood the personal space and boundaries of others.

Even if the angel girl herself did not hold such things, she did her best to pay attention and learn as many things about others as she could. Their behaviour, their thoughts; more often than not there were handfuls of wolves with similar mindsets and ideals. Of course not each of them were one in the same- much like they had their similarities they also held their differences. It was a long time ago now, or so it felt like, that Ambrosia had learned such lessons from her Mother. Her Mother, and the open wilderness of Diveen had been her teachers from early days. Diveen was still her home at that, her presence today on the mountain for the sake of just that. It was also thanks to the plateau pack that violet eyes gazed so evenly into molten gold. Even his eyes reminded her of Achilles, though she knew they were not and could not be related. That would mean she was related to the Spirane wolf, and, well, she just knew she wasn't. He is so polite with his hello, with Ambrosia in turn gifting him with a gentle nod.

She waits through his analysis of her, awaiting his curious words to give her own eager answer. When it is he asks his question, she feels that he already knows the answer, but she gives it to him regardless. And when she speaks, her voice is sweet as honey and just as smoothe, if not smoother. "From Diveen I am- as I am Ambrosia." Such words are accompanied with her sweet smile, honesty sincerity the main thing present in her expression. Ambrosia had always been a gentle, warm and welcoming soul, and even on alleged business it changed nothing. If anything, this task allowed her to further branch out, to meet more wolves and perhaps even call more souls her friends. Like the young wolf before her, a wolf she had not yet learned the name of. "What may I call you, golden wolf of mountains?" Growing up around her family as a whole meant rather interesting speaking habits inherited or otherwise learned and picked up over time. Latin was their blood language, but the common tongue of Moladion came in many different.. fourms. Her siblings, her aunts and even uncles obvious proof of it.

While for the most part Ambrosia's grasp on the common language was fool proof, more often than not she played with her words and spoke with an eloquence not entirely unheard of in the angel line. She hoped this young wolf would not be put off by such a thing, and eager and hopeful bright irises showed this. She had only put a few feet of space between them, hoping it was enough for him though she would grant more if needed. But she was still on his level, skull lowered, and she had no intention of moving that position any time soon. Unless he asked, of course.