Unabashed, the female moved across the borders of Spirane to acknowledge her youthful greeter. With each fluid stride Viserion almost seemed to study her, curious of her intentions, though her body language spoke endlessly to her warm nature. The distance he had left between them upon saying hello to her disappeared as she moved to him, and he remained as he was, intrigued by her forwardness. He was far from put off by it, instead given to wonder if this was commonplace amongst the wolves of whichever land she came from. Would he need to remember the way she stepped forward, lowering her diadem to press her muzzle against his shoulder? It would hardly be difficult for him, as he stored every bit of knowledge he had attained through his short lifespan in the back of his mind. As she came to embrace him, he turned his head towards her and touched his nose just behind her ear, for at such a young age it would take quite an ungraceful strain of his neck to return the gesture of bumping his nose to her shoulder. This would do for now, he thought.

As she withdrew he resumed his study of her, sure that he could piece together what he knew about the packs of Moladino to fully identify her homeland. After a moment of musing his head tilted slightly to the side, eyes lifting back to her face as he asked if she was in fact from Diveen. He blinked a few times, but she did not leave him in suspense. When she confirmed that she - Ambrosia - was from the pack of the plateaus, his alabaster fringed banner began to wave back and forth happily. He was not surprised by his being correct, merely pleased. And of course in knowing Ambrosia was of a pack that held a long history of friendship with Spirane, not to mention her pleasant way of greeting, Viserion was fast coming to the conclusion that they should be friends.

“I am Viserion, one of three princes of the realm,” he said. It was not in a self important way that he told her, rather just one friend sharing knowledge with another. It seemed to him that more often than not when he was open and willing to share what he knew with others, they would reciprocate in kind. His curious nature made him wonder if the shewolf brushed in russet had a certain motive for coming to visit Spirane this day, or if it was simply a cordial visit. For him to wonder often meant for him to question; after all, one could not hope to learn if one just waited for answers of questions never asked. “What brings you to our mountain today, Ambrosia?” He smiled at her, glad for the fact that she remained on equal level with him, and while he did look forward to the day when such would not be necessary, it hardly troubled him now.