He finds it odd, the way the voice rang out to him and in the same instance called for him. Much like his sire before him, it was not often he indulged in the whims and wishes of others. And much like when she had always tried to call him back to the den, regardless if she knew it was futile or not, Kronos is hanging back for some moments. He is considering now, his options and what he may do with them. Waiting for Cuirass was most logical, but then again the white and red wolf knew his brother would come along one way or another, if that was what he wished. Quirino was his brother as well, even if they were both only half. For long before their departure from their little family, Seline had told them much of the Satanican's and what they had once been. In those stories had been Cade and Quirino, Saladin and Valiant, Liquid and many more. The ones easily recalled were the most immediate, the most important- and neither him nor his brother had been surprised upon their arrival to this land. They had found only their Great Uncle Liquid, and even then he was a fleeting sight.

Seline often spoke of the behaviour of her family and its heritage, of their wanderlust and their true loyalty to no one but themselves. The familial bond was strong in them, but other things in the world were stronger. They did not know the exact details, but the boys did know what somehow Seline had taken Eric from her own daugther. Neither of them held it against her, he was their Father, after all; but Kronos could not help but wonder how his sister might feel about such a thing. Or Quirino for that matter, if he even knew of such details or even cared. After some time, large white paws are carrying him swiftly through the damn forest for it seems Andere has a knack for storms and downpours. The russet and white wolf did not care all too much, he was not one so fussed and concerned about his physical appearance. He was handsome in all shapes and manners, and did not need to be reassured of such things. Strong, long and supple legs bring him quick enough to the brother that had called him and, in truth, he was a tad startled to see one so reminiscent of Cuirass. Of course the white on his purely red pelt was on the chest and not the hackles and back of the neck, but the resemblance was uncanny. A smirk crept across his features as he further observed this brother of his, before at last his light aquamarine eyes- a perfect blend of Seline's toxic green and Eric's glacial blue- find the liquid inky darkness that adorns Quirino's features. There isn't a wolf in his family he grew up with with eyes so dark, and it has him wondering about this other Satanican. How much could he be like Seline, and how much would he be? One thing would lead to another, and so on and so forth.

"You are Quirino, I am Kronos. We are Satanican sons, but two of different worlds." He breaks the silence between them with ease; he has always been the voice when it comes to being paired with his brother. Even without that familiar presence, it was the role he fit best into, taking after the Satanican Queen in her love for words and all games that come along with it. And regardless of the amused and smug grin upon his features, Kronos is not here to play games. He is here because a brother called him, and he answered that call. Now he would see what it was all about, waiting in silence and stark contrast of blood and snow to the others bloody night.