She is still unwell. Perhaps Hadrian will need to see to her. That will do well, I think. He did well to heal my wounds. Perhaps he can do the same for her. Yet, I have spent too much time in the company of a bloodied, dismantled wolf. There are other things of much greater importance. Perhaps it is wrong of me, in somebody's world, to prioritize such things over my mother's health and yet, she has done this to herself. Whoever their father is, he has not presented himself and so, it is his fault all the same. Perhaps I feel more mercy for my mother in such a situation yet I must put aside such emotion for the good of the pack. I have done all I can, after all; I have guarded, fed and tended to the area. There is little more I can do other than ensure nobody disturbs her.
I depart from her den with haste, doing what I can to banish my trail as I move towards the shoreline. There are other mothers to be tended to, after all. I cannot spend all my energy on one. Perhaps I ought to meet with the healers at some point to discuss our course of action; perhaps Alcmene, too. We ought to hunt. We ought to do many things I suppose and yet, there is a cry from the borders on the opposite of the beach. I pause in my steps, considering it for a moment and yet, I am obliged to attend to it. I am, it seems, at the beck and call of others despite it all. I grumble internally at the thought, pulled away from my task as I lope down the shoreline, the quickest way to the call. It takes time but I shall arrive soon enough, an unfamiliar scent in the air and yet, intertwined with Tristan's. How good it is to see him doing such a thing - tending to this stranger, after all, is all part of the art of diplomacy. Make them comfortable. Prepare them. It is all about tenderizing.
I slow as I approach the pair, my eyes resting upon Tristan initially before moving towards the larger female. She is built tall and powerful, a fact that cannot be escaped; she is taller than even I. Perhaps I ought to be on edge at such a thing, her physical capabilities undoubtedly far reaching and yet, Tristan has apparently lured her into a more comfortable state. There is something about her, however, that makes me... curious. Perhaps it is her lack of scent, a true loner is often not seen after all. There is always some kind of affiliation.
I take my place beside Tristan though I retain a suitable distance, giving him another reaffirming glance. He may, of course, stay and perhaps I desire that - I would like to see the way he is to others, the way he speaks and moves about. Nonetheless, I give my attention to the female now, my tail arced over my back and ears thrown forward. My eyes are hard on her own, searching them - her features - for the subtleties that mark suspicion. When I am content (for the time being, at least), I offer her what could be considered a smile - my lips pull back for a moment, my head falling into a slight natural tilt as I address her.