So, she had dismissed the idea of a singular pack life. She had departed one day and she had not returned the next. For some time, she had taken to prowling the outskirts of the pack's beyond and to the north. For a brief time, she had debated re-entering the fields of Asteraia. It had been her birth place, after all, and yet she had decided against it. Simply having been born somewhere meant even less to her than mere blood relation. If she were to enter such a pack, it'd need to be for more than a simple childhood memory.

Eventually, however, she had been tempted once more into Glorall. She had watching her father for a short time and she had grown curious of the going ons within the territory. It seemed that something had bothered him some time ago and only now had that bother begun to resolve. And so, she had taken it upon herself to re-enter the territory and take refuge upon its borders. By the river, she had dug herself out a small, makeshift den; she liked the view of Diveen, after all, and had grown fond of watching the strange wolves on the opposite side of the water. Their lives were entertaining in their dullness. Still, she hoped to catch Achilles some day. He had been... fun, and she had more questions to ask him now.

However, it seemed her laziness could only last so long. It had been the scent of blood that had alerted her to something awry. It had permeated quickly and yet, it had dissipated just as so. That in itself made it all the more of a curiosity as she sauntered from the shallow den, her pale form upon the shorelines as she begun to trace the brief scent towards it origins. The prospect of danger had always been an enticing one and so, she had no internal debate about following such a scent. Besides, it seemed to be nobody that she knew personally so there was little loss to be had.

Eventually, she had caught a glimpse of a dark form entering the shallows beyond. It lured her further even more so, her bright eyes locked on to her now-target. It was difficult to spy her in the darkness and yet, Eloah simply took it to mean that she ought to approach. Slowly but surely, she did as such; she reached the border between shore and river, teetering the two some distance from the she-wolf as she absorbed all she could of the situation. Blood. A gentle smell now as it began to disappear into the water; and a child, though his scent seemed concealed. It was the older wolf's that interested Eloah the most.

"Is that yours?" She could not help but ask, her voice cutting through the eeriness of the situation with curious clarity. She stood at attention, her ears forward and head tilted ever so slightly. Truly, she had little resemblance to her father in those moments; she had a warmth about her that he seemedto lack, a curiosity that she had never been ashamed to hide. Even now, a hint of curiosity lingered in her lips, one side tugged ever, ever so slightly into an amused grin. She did not know what had happened, after all, only that there might be something peculiar happening. Would she learn to heal this day? Or to fight? Each prospect was as enticing as the last.