The tall, toned young warrior had not been far when Aviias call came, the boy seated beside his own sire this day, his height at last having managed to exceed Azrael’s own, a source of constant disdain to the older, white male though in truth Guardian was given to take delight in such a thing. He had not sought his sire for any particular reason this day, merely finding a few moments spare from his own duties to spend at his sire’s side though he had long since ceased to listen to whatever it was Azrael spoke of. He adores his sire, just as he adores his mother and yet such is the nature of the boy that he is often given to sit and listen with quiet politeness, even if his mind has travelled elsewhere in the process, his own thoughts far more inclined towards border patrol, wondering of Zeus and consider his children from Aviias. He had desired, even from a young age, to have a son all his own, one to be as himself and his sire before him, to follow in such a line of work- one who might like to be taught the ways of the warrior and indeed though he would hold not less love for a daughter there is a part of the star-marked boy that seeks a boy all his own. The suddenness of Aviias see the young male sit nearly bolt upright, Azrael staring towards him with a look of confusion as his long red limbs scrabbled at the sand in an effort to propel himself self forward.

“Imma comin’ Imma comin’ ”

Azrael protest and demand to know when guardian was going were met with not more then the sight of the boys retreating figure, Guardian having so far refrained from explaining such things to his parents. He is hardly ashamed of his own actions, nor does he desire to keep such things from them. More so, he is concerned for Aviias, aware of his sire’s…..ability to dislike so many of those that exist around him, Guardian assured such stress could hardly be healthy for mother or child and as such had merely decided such news would be best delivered later. By the time the male arrives at the den the first child is very near born already. He had, in his time, witnessed the birth of all of his siblings and as such it is not so much panic as excitement that seems to overcome the boy, eyes of blue and molten gold held wide as he looks upon her, tail waving as he crouches within the den space- desperate to catch a glimpse of the first child as it is born the puppy so very….white….and grey…and red.

“Aviias!”

His voice is sudden, perhaps too loud within the space as his eyes fall suddenly upon the rear of the white and Angel-marked child and it’s evident lack of tail.

“I reckon yar forgot the tail, eh? Is it…er……still in dare?”

He, certainly, has no desire to see if it is, curious entirely as to just where the child’s tail had gone all the same, head tilted in concern before his companions voice seems to find him once more and those eyes of blue and gold turn downward at last to fully appreciate the white child. A boy. The one he had always desired as his features very near seem to glow in utter delight at this realisation before Aviias offers him this chance to name a child so long awaited. It is a serious thing, this business of naming- Guardian fallen silent in a moment, gaze resting still upon his precious newborn- longing to touch the boy and yet refraining still.

“Imma call ‘im ‘Ektor but wit one of dem fancy H’s in front- for his great granddaddy Heyel. H for Heyel. Reckon dat’s a good name eh? Imma so pleased wit him, even if ya forgetted his tail, he’s just what I wanted. Imma love ‘im and play with ‘im and teach ‘im all about dem Angels and I….hold on, whatcha doin’?”

He had not fully anticipated that there would be more then one truly, red limbs pulling back slightly as Aviias seemed to struggle once more and his gaze narrows in concern, watching silently still, each muscle held tense and ready as if it is battle he prepares for though it is merely with nervous energy he looks on. He can scent blood within the air, heralding the arrival of another child, this one as black as the other was white. If Ektor with an H reminded him of his father with his mother’s marks, then this child reminded him of his mother with his father’s marks. He cannot help the grin that beams across his features as the other, another son, another perfect boy is placed beside his brother and Guardian’s tail waves. That gentle, quiet male surely the proudest parent in all Moladion that night.

“Das a good name and das a good reason ta use it. Names always gotta ‘ave a reason.”

He nods, assured of this as he presses further into the down now, seeking a closeness instinct demands as he dares to reach his muzzle forward, pausing only briefly to assure himself Aviias will not snap in defense of her infants before his nose moves first to Hektor and then to Gendry in turn, bumping each, inhaling that new puppy scent before his muzzle lowers to Aviis herself- sweeping across her cheek in that perfect, quiet little moment. The first of many moments for such a little family to be sure. His delight tainted only by the sudden tears upon Aviias face.

“Do ya need a ‘ealer? Wats wrong, are ya hurtin’?”

The alarm in his face is clear, the male clearly getting ready to lift himself once more before she manages to stutter her love for their new family, the handsome male’s head tilted to the side now- entirely unable to understand why this seems to result in tears. Women are very curious creatures indeed. Her sudden admittance of love for himself seeing his head jerk towards her now, staring quietly at this muted whisper. She loved him?

“Das alright I reckon.”

His own words are little more then a mutter, the female already asleep, cutting off any further words he may have desired to offer. He would ask her then, he thinks, when she wakes up what it is she might think of a title better suited to the mother of his children then mere ‘friend’, the boy having considered this since the discovery of her pregnancy and yet it would not be appropriate to ask it of her while she sleeps, he is sure. For now he simply lays down his own head atop his giant paws, nose very near resting against her own as he rests. He will not sleep, not tonight, tonight he will guard his family, thank the Angels and Stars above both for the gift of sons- and the female whom had borne them for him.

“Reckon I might love ya to…all of ya.”

Maybe he will say it again in the daylight- when she can truly hear him.