I do not hear nor see him until he makes himself known; he is a sly thing despite the age that lingers in his eyes. It makes my skin prickle, my fur rising along my spine but for a moment - if he had wanted to, he might have taken a bite from me. Yet, he enters as peacefully as possible as he takes his position besides Natu. I eye his posture, sneering all the while at his remark: I know no master either, after all. He may hold himself in such a way to portray an undeserved confidence here but it does not make it so. Nonetheless, I am not here for him and my attention remains on Natu for the most part, though I turn an ear towards him as he speaks.

What a fickle thing freedom is. Is the idea of freedom truly reliant on providing for one's self? Waiting it out in the midst of storms? Praying that you are not taken by the bears that come crawling out of the earth come spring? Is freedom truly reliant on the idea of constantly fighting to stay alive? We already must fight to live in a pack - it is our species, after all - and yet they wish to fight even harder? I am unsure as to whether I should be impressed by the tenacity or maddened by the sentiment.

"To see another as your master and you as their possession... is that how you perceive the world around you?" I ask it simply, as a mere off handed comment before my eyes slide towards Fenrir. All this talk of masters. There is only one thing I desire to take mastery of and that singularity is the delivery of nature's rules. Ownership differs from possession.

"You are mistaken, though," I settle into my position, though I am always at the ready but this time, my attention refocuses on Natu with a hint of an amused grin, "This web is not for flies. I only seek to share it with other spiders. What use is a fly to anybody?"

I must admit that I am tense. I desire her knowledge, after all, and yet this male seems unwilling to lend it to me. Perhaps some barriers are best removed and yet, I have a hope that Natu is no fool. It would be better here and perhaps this male, this one that clings to her, will find some purpose here. There is no purpose in the pointlessness of roaming.