His movements were interrupted by that of a voice, a voice that traveled through the moonlight as he melded into the shadows. It was that of a female, and he did not immediately slow as he listened to the words that she said, of how she had to come see his ghost like figure when he did peer into the open land of Asteraia. His formidable form gave pause, head flashing back to look at what it is that speaks to him. He sees the other white form glowing in the silvered light of the moon, her eyes are not like his though. They do not share that of violet or orange, but instead they are of green.

He narrows his eyes slightly as he takes her in. The wind does carry her scent to his nose, and his interest is only slightly more peaked as he identifies it as the sent along the border of the pack. So, this was the new ruler of the plains? His face did not give way to any emotion at this moment, and he is an image of his mother in that he holds a stoic and unwavering hardened face. His own features reflected that of Heyel if he liked it or not, a replica of perfection with a mind combined with that of Ava.

He only stares for a moment in the shadows, glitters of moonlight filtering onto his pelt. He hungered now, but the scent of the female before was...unappealing. Perhaps it was because she was with pup. There was a dark curiosity in his eyes, perhaps a dangerous one as he easily turn and step forward closer to her.

He had never ripped open the belly of a pregnant female before, and yet part of him knew that mothers must give birth to continue to have prey to hunt and devour. It is that notion that stick to him in this moment, a lesson from Ava to always respect his mother, and yet the moment this female was without pup, would anything be changed? For now though, he would only wonder why a ruler of the plains would come into the forest to chase a ghost.

"If real, what would it matter?" he bellowed, his eyes daring as he walked along the shadows, edging closer as he sizes her up. His voice is still thick with that of Latin, his mother and preferred tongue. He had grown to learn and understand English, but it was not without disdain. The language still felt like needles on the tongue.

"If not real, what to be done?" he questioned, stopping his form of lightning white closer to her. Even in then light of dappled moon, one could tell the true strength and savagery of his lupine form. Scars could be seen upon his fur, and yet not too many nor too harsh. He was not afraid to get a little teeth stuck into his fur for the reward of blood, but he was not so unskilled as to get too damaged. He waited for her answer, patience only for as long as his stomach would tolerate.