He lets her touch him, permits her muzzle to press into the softness of his fur, lifting head to touch to her own in some muted affection before he moves to follow along behind her, Never slowing until he walks beside her and both children walk side by side- pelts of shadow and smoke and ink blending together as they do. The children born of imprint, after all, are always meant to be. She stops suddenly, turning to face him now, her forehead pressed against his own as he inhales her scent and his eyes close almost instinctively before flickering open once more, the green of his gaze meeting the blue-tone of her own as she speaks about flyers and red and brown creatures. He does not….understand who or what she is talking about, the only red wolves he knows are the children of Seline and Eric and they are not small like Never or himself.

“Very well.”

He simply murmurs by way of response, dropping the sarcasm from his voice now as it becomes only clear that Nevermore does not understand. She takes after their sire, that he knows and indeed he hardly begrudges her that elusive title. He himself values his own mentality. He is more advanced then his sibling, he knows that, having favoured his Mother in far more then just the smaller, lightness to his build that so many of Tobias’ progeny lack. He has taken his mother’s intelligence and ability for thought, simply combing it with his sire’s ferocity- though it remains to be seen as of yet. No one yet having demanded that of him and perhaps that is for the better. He follows after her once more, moving to come to her side again as she seems to decide is right and for now at least he hardly moves to argue with her as they stroll beside the river. Her excitement is palpable and yet his own form remains devoid of any outward emotion as he wanders, steps lazy upon the ground, dragging his dark paws as never continues to talk in excitement- mentioning his dislike of walking. His lips part, as if he plans to argue before he dismisses the idea, knowing it is surely lost upon her.

The appearance of the large dead deer however, sees his forest green eyes widen in surprise. It is not the toy he had anticipated and yet by that token he is not entirely unimpressed with it, nostrils flaring to take in the scent as he moves forward now, white banded tail lifted upward in curiosity as he sniffs at it- ignoring the birds the pull at the flesh. One paw lifts, resting against the dead animal, pushing on it, just to see what it does, just to learn- because he can. Never bows down in a play bow. He watches her for a moment, head tilting as if he seems to attempt to decide whether he is interested in indulging her or not. He is rarely given to play, play, after all, requires a use of energy. He is silent for several moments still, watching, before he suddenly allows himself to bow down- though it lasts barely a second before he lunges towards her- aiming to send her crashing to the ground.