Truthfully, they are fascinating creatures despite their incapability. Vastly different and yet similar all the same even when they had not yet met one another. The children of Renai do not differ so greatly from Achlys' own, though perhaps those raised beneath my shadow are better off. At least, I can be certain they are fed well and their safety assured by the borders that surround them. Still, I have taken to Asteraia several times since my encounter with the pair in the forest. I watch them closely. Eloah has come to speak with me, too. They are fascinating, indeed. I have watched and I have learned that none seem to be weakened by any ailment. I suppose it was their mothers' suffering that spared them.

It is with that same curiosity that I move towards Achlys' den, peering down into its depths. I see three of the children piled up, though one seems to be missing. It is the largest one that is gone. Though he often blends into the darkness of his two other brothers, I know him well enough to know when he has crept away. Careful not to wake the others, I engage his scent and begin to follow it towards the shore. It cannot be helped; at realizing where he has gone, a brow rises in curiosity and amusement. Perhaps we will see his first weakness today. How long, I wonder, can a whelp survive the undertow of the ocean? I wonder how many children have floated away into nothingness on these shores. Will he join them today, this Erebos?

However, I do not see him in the waves. Instead, I see his figure trailing one of the sea's birds. He maintains a distance for some time, and so do I. I merely watch as he catches up to it, prodding at it and moving it about. It lays limp now, a free meal for any who might take it. Even the greed within me grows curious for its flesh, and it initiates me to move forward towards him. I have no hesitancy to approach, no need to hide my presence. I merely arrive in silence, staring down at he and the bird.

"Do you know what this is?"

I question him simply, glancing to the body. I reach out with my paw, nudging the bird over onto its breast so that its wings sprawl out between us. It is a horrid creature, truly a mess. It is likely that it escaped a failed hunt - a fox, perhaps. Whatever the case, it is ... unappetizing. Fresh, yes, but muddied and gritty with sand. Consider it a toy now. Or an educational means. I am merely curious as to this boy's understanding of the world around him. Truly, I know little of children as it is. We will both learn, I suppose.