It is truth that Zaphkiel has always longed to be something great. He does not thirst for power in the way that some wolves do, scrambling up a hierarchy in search of respect; his feats should earn him renown, and yet Molodian seems stark compared to the rest of the world he has traveled. Youth had a way of making things seem much more grand than they truly were and the memories he has of his exploits are immortalized within his brain. He could wax on all day about his adventures even if that required a bit of exaggeration, but he was immensely proud of himself. He is a strange mix of one who craves others to look upon him with awe but also not caring, often finding himself torn between the two emotions, yet strangely he wishes only that Astrid would find his company worthwhile.
With each passing minute in his company it seems that Astrid is growing more relaxed, her words adapting to match his own in fanciful imitations that he finds fetching. Of course, he simply finds her fetching anyways, his good eye taking moments to scan across her features with a sort of wistful look that is hidden the moment she would look directly at him. He had asked his father a few seasons ago what he should do, for his soul had longed for the company of Gaia and yet he craved the attentions of Astrid. They were so different; Gaia, who needed a white knight, and Astrid who could care for herself like an Amazonian woman. Yet he wanted her.
A rumbling laugh erupts from his maw at her words, his eyes creasing in his mirth at her words and tail thumping against the ground in approval. "That you would offer to lower yourself thus for me is a prize above all, great Queen Huntress. Alas, I find that saving you would likely be a fruitless endeavor, for I imagine the dragons I would kill would already be tamed by your fire," he intones with a wink in her direction. Zaphkiel, as always, was not above such compliments and flirtation.
As the moment takes a more serious note he watches her with intensity, soaking up her words like a flower to the sun, for she does not make light of a matter that he has fought with himself over. It warms him and his heart, for a moment, skips a beat as he looks upon her face. "Thank you," he mumbles sincerely to her, his voice deep and rich with a hidden emotion, and he stares at her in what she might consider an awkward way - deep and intense. Searching for a hint, a hint that she felt the same way about him that he had begun to feel about her. The feeling that made it hard for him to sleep in Diveen for he wanted to so bad to seek her out and see what she was doing.
One brief moment is all they share with her pressed into him and it is enough to send a bolt of hope into his stomach. He is both proud and uncertain, but unlike some wolves, Zaphkiel could press past that uncertainty. It would never hinder him. She leans towards him and then her head turns away and he swears her breath catches, or was that his own? Her scent seems to suffocate him and he chokes on it with joy.
I wish you could show me.
Those words! This moment was weighty. Zaphkiel does not over think himself as he leans forward slowly and presses his muzzle against hers, his good eye staring into blue one. "I would show you everything, if you were mine," he whispers, the moment freezing as adrenaline skitters through his blood, wondering if she would bolt away in terror or lunge in fury, for this moment would be the hinge on which the rest of their relationship went. Whether he would have to dog her steps to try and convince her or simply be present always to prove himself.