It is almost as if he does not hear her approach at first. His ears do not react. He does not turn his head or acknowledge any existence of anything that was remotely real. He was a bag of flesh bound by fur, covered in mud and matted. His tongue lashes out in attempts to guzzle more and more air. His body moved strangely, like a slug writhing in salt. He was not how he used to be. He is no longer the great Demon leader of Iromar. No, that wolf died long ago. He is now something morphed by the mysteries of the world, of poisons and diseases, of things that wolven minds knew so little of. He had been taken and consumed by them, and was now at the mercy of their magics.

It was not until his red rimmed ears catch the falling word of his name from Aithne's lips that he attempts to recognize the here and now in this world. He heard his name among the calls of many within, but this was different. His unfocused eyes swirl until they see the face of Aithne. There is somewhat of an odd comfort of her being there, something that ground him in the mud where he really was instead of floating in the abyss that was his melting mind.

"Aith-ne" he says in but a dark whisper. He became suddenly aware of twitchiness of his body, how his tongue was almost numb from the burning. Blood barely touched his form- blood that was no his, and he could still smell the scent of the boy who should be dead upon him. He attempts to lift his head, though it is shaking and twitching violently at times. He questions are head but not exactly understood. His ears move to listen and them seem to immediately turn to listen to things that are not there. He laps nothing with his tongue, seemingly trying to find his own mouth again.

"He is not...is not dead. I...failed her, Lillith, I.....failed, Aithne, will she...will she take me back?" he murmured, at times his words loud, while some seem to fall almost in oblivion. His eyes seem to wander again, his legs twitching as if he attempts to run after something, like a sleeping pup chasing after dreams. He growls suddenly before his tongue flaps onto the ground as he pants once more.

"Aith-ne, it...is time, send...send..." he murmurs, licking his burning lips but unable to complete the last word. Yet, it is the single sunset eye that lifts up and tries to connect with Aithne. It was his eye that said what he mouth could not. The little bit of his mind that was his, that was left, reflected in that eye. He was asking her to do what she needed to do, but only for a moment before his eye gets distracted once more, following the demons in his mind as his breath quickens. His body was torture now. A thing ravaged by time and the dark things of the world. It was a thing he needed to be free of- it was just a matter of it would be now at the mercy of Aithne's jaws, or if it will be a slow few more hours until his heart finally gives way.