Dipping her jaw down once more ever so slightly, Ambrosia acknowledges the way Aithne acknowledges her. The white wolf is young yet, but she has traveled far and wide and met many different folks of many different lands. She comes also from a background of greatness as well as humble modesty, the combination of her heritage giving to her her gifts of natural sweetness, natural beauty, and natural hand at politics. Not that she would ever consider it such a thing, but it was honestly the truth of the matter. Ambrosia had long since had a ways when it came to other species of her kind. Such as the Black Prince, and the way she had communicated with him, somehow broken his concentration on what his mind had been set on, all only to lead him away from the safety of her family and out into the unknown. But she had to do it, and so she had done it. It was as simple as that, and she could not fathom for a moment why anyone else would not do such a thing. It was her nature to be so.

Aithne mentioned Yojimbo, and that if ever she sought a change in scenery she would be more than welcome in the swamps. With a warm smile of her own, and the inkling of a breathy chuckle, Ambrosia has words for the Empress in the following moments. "Should the dryness of Diveen ever become to much, be sure I will seek sanctuary in the wet of Iromar." It was a playful meaning, for her, and it did not cross her mind to think it be rude or distasteful. It was nothing but the truth, something she had strictly lived by all her short life thus far. There had been a twinkle in emerald irises before her own jest, and so the white wolf believed it all to be in good humor. When she mentions Taviora, however, immediately does she see the way Aithne's face falls and her smile falters. She wonders then if she has made a mistake, but she holds strong and fast in her curiosity and awaits what the Empress might offer. The silence is rather long, stretching out by the second but truly the Diveen wolf does not mind. She does not mind even if the other refused to answer such a thing- it might deal with sensitive pack matters, ones she had absolutely no business in.

But the black wolf does offer her something, and white ears are intent in their listening. Piece by piece does the story come together in her mind- the wolf returned to Taviora must have been Siren's imprint, and Lillith, Andras' mate, must have been the one to kill him. Which would lead to Siren killing her own Mother; a sad and sobering thought for Ambrosia, even if the Mother in question was a vile and wicked Queen. Much like she had in Taviora, the young star dusted angel girl hangs her head low in condolences and mourning for not only the young male wolf, but even for Lillith as well. While it is natural to die, never would she wish death upon any individual, no matter who or what they were. Her voice, though still sweet, is heavyset with emotion that she does not attempt to lessen. "I am sorry for the loss- of both the boy and the Mother. And for what has happened to Siren." But it seems that Aithne is not quite yet done, for she had more words having to do with Andras. It is a warning, it seems, and one well heeded as she nods her slender skull in understanding. "I have seen wolves driven over such an edge before. Your words will not go unheeded, Aithne."

Though it is not exactly a time for it, a weak smile is given because she is thankful for what the Empress decided on sharing with her. It was obviously a leap of faith on her part, and Ambrosia couldn't be more grateful for it. Even though she was not, she could very well be a wolf most skilled and trained in the deception of others. But as it were, she was nothing but her kind, sweet self that wanted nothing more than to better and to help the entire world around her. Both the light and the dark. And though she was anxious to return home, her large white paws linger on the soil of the swamps longer as her words flit between both white and black bodies. "I thank you for your words, and wish that I could offer you some sort of aid. What I can offer you is an ear to listen, should ever you need it, even if I am a wolf of Diveen. I have many friends all over Moladion and outside of it. I am not a wolf such as my Grandfather." The young wolf wonders, then, if Aithne has ever heard of Heyel and his ways or if such a reference would be lost on her. Either way, Ambrosia is purely content to further her questions if accepted.

"Other than the matters of Taviora and Iromar, would there be anything you'd like us in Diveen to know that may help Iromar in any way?"