he had known it, but that didn’t mean that the theft of his mate was not jarring when she was all he had left. he had known he needed to pull his influence now with his children before they became too dependant on - at the very least - himself. he knew he was older, he knew he was drowning in his years despite the well being he lived feeling. age and fitness fought in him these days, his body holding up magnificently until suddenly something would upset the delicate balance.

he imagined he would be running till his body simply shorted out and he dropped mid-stride. he imagined he would be chasing down his rogue women (now woman, he does not intend to outlive natu the way he has outlived the others) till his legs buckle and heart stops.

hearing her call, knowing that there was a foreign male with her, heading towards glorall instead of diveen as they had initially intended-- he is no small dose of antagonized. he does not have the same mindset of acceptance as his mate, but also has learned through the ages that he must hold his head together, to not be ifrit, to not live up to the low-blow individuals who doubted that he could be better than rumor might suggest. he would not abandon her, he would not wait it out, he would most certainly come to stand beside her - on her command of peace or war. eden would see no animosity until such time as natu desired that course.

beta to the last, shameless in blind loyalty.

he arrives as eden begins to speak, using the wind to his advantage and the inherent silence of movement that he and seamus were known for. it is not in ill-will, but investigation, that he does this -- and when it is clear that they will move inwards, he crosses borders without hesitation. her call was not a soft one, though it was meant to soothe his nerves. eden was well aware of what was to come and on inward he went.

fenrir breaks his hidden silence and answers as they still, “she knows no master, and won’t if i may help it.” he answers eden with tail held half-mast and eyes set firmly onto natu as he takes her measure and is reassured of her good health. he knows what she does not yet, has smelled her chemical changes and seen some of the alterations that come from desiring the most odd prey at the most insane hours of the night. “are we coming to glorall now, love, or do you prefer freedom?” he asks, eyes turning to now take eden’s measure.