Perhaps he is easy to trust- if only because he himself is so young, even if his lanky appearance and long fur makes him seem older than his one year of age. Perhaps too, it is because he is simply free of judgement, youthful and naïve, even innocent. Maybe she simply sees as other wolves do- a creature whom appears insane and indeed, if that is so, it hardly matters what is said to him for surely he will not remember. Yet those emerald eyes remain focused on her own, his reptilian gaze as deep and piercing as his infamous sire’s ever were and yet, indeed, there remains within them something far more akin to understanding then many ever care to notice. She speaks once more of her home, or perhaps her family, his head tilted to the side like a curious doll, the young, handsome male appearing all the more boyish now as he does.

“Why did….they hurt you? Were you…..very bad?”

Those broken words stutter towards her once more, forced out between his dark lips as that red and white tail, like a single flare upon the midnight of his pelt, offers a single wave as her own head lowers in sadness. The memories of her past, it would seem, afflict her still and yet in that Lonhro remains oblivious. He does not understand true emotion, not really, remains incapable of it’s perception on any level other than the most basal of understandings and as such he offers little more than a blank stare towards her clearly troubling past. Her mention, however, that she will not run from him is clearly intensely pleasing as his lips split into a wide and toothy grin once more.

“Then I….will like you. Yes.”

That to like someone is a matter of deciding here and now is clearly his belief. His mind as simple as that in his deciding as he nods in assurance once more and she speaks now of her home and land so far away. If he understands this concept of time and space it remains unclear, for he offers no words on this, his mind simply attempting to understand the matter, to picture it, to wonder of it until she speaks of wolves of silver with brindle coats. He does not understand ‘brindle’ though her description seems to intrigue him all the same.

“We have some…..wolves that are….silver. We have…Angels but….they are….white and….red.”

He knows the name, for his has heard it, those wolves whom call themselves Angel and reside within Diveen. He knows this word, though he does not know of them. The descendants of Heyel. Yet this, it would seem, is all the knowledge he knows and offers no further upon it as the grey female finishes.

“Suicune, Suicune, Suicune.”

He repeats the word, her name, seeming to delight in its sound as he offers it over and over before suddenly standing abruptly upward to stride forward and close the distance between them- oblivious to any need she may have for personal space as his nose near touches her own.

“You can….stay with me…..if you want? You are my friend….now.”