The rumble that had come from her had made him more cautious, his uncertainty palpable in the very air around him as he continued to inch forward on unsure paws. It had been so quiet, though, and part of him stood at attention; something about it had been less anger and more... a subdued frustration. It had been something Caligula had done several times before - one of the few sounds she had been able to make and so, it could not be helped that his instincts flared up in response. It was the sound of want, of need. He knew it well enough and so, he had suddenly felt a wave of curiosity. He had walked in on something more than a wolf simply staring at the water, it seemed, and yet the answer to what was not one he had ever imagined seeing in his life time. Perhaps that had been a morose expectation and yet, his family had never done a good job at seeing things through.

He paused as she rose, startled understandably, and so he settled into place. He did his best to maintain the composure of somebody still strong and yet, his paws had almost forgotten the exact nature of the swamps. He could feel his body naturally lean off his back leg, unwilling to let it succumb to the eventual ache that would surely follow.

He grinned, then, when she finally spoke, his head dipped low in a respectful bow of greeting. It felt more formal that way and it felt only right to acknowledge her position; after all, she had done well to hold it. Iromar had befallen a curse for so long it seemed and yet, now a queen had stood for years. Perhaps she did not even know the significance of such a thing. It was when she mentioned his absence that he huffed, a brief sound of amusement before he spoke. "Some might argue not long enough," he stated, shrugging his shoulders, "or too long." He felt both. He feared the repercussions of returning and yet, he knew he had to.

The thought ate him for a moment, his eyes having roamed away and into the mists where he was sure his mother's face would appear like a depraved, hungry ghost. She'd be desperate for answers, desperate to know how he'd simply stopped trying. Yet, how could she talk? She had fallen for longer and harder than he. At least he had the strength to start trying again. It was difficult not to become lost in such a thought and yet, Aithne's voice had brought him back with its curious tone. He had turned to face her once more, his eyes pinpointing the slow smile that played out across her face. His brows had become furrowed in silent question, his head tilted - curious, he had begun to inch forward once more.

When her question broke his silence, he could not find it in himself to respond immediately. Instead, he seemed to mirror her first expression; his mouth fell ajar slightly, his eyes bewildered as they fell onto her abdomen. It seemed so... normal. She seemed like any other wolf and yet, the answer to the question he had not asked seemed obvious. In an instant, he found himself recoiling with a sudden emotion. Pride, he assumed, and yet it was a sad pride. He had not been here for his son's life; had he taken Aithne as his mate? What had become of him? Surely she would not speak of him with such a question attached if it did not mean it...

He had to distract himself once more. He sucked in a breath, a dam in his mind to reel back what he had suddenly begun to feel. Still, his lips betrayed him as they danced with the smallest of grins. He could not lie, though. He'd done enough of that, he figured. "For me," he begun, a sigh playing in his breath, "it was never knowing if you were doing a good job. It's trying to do everything at once but nothing, too. You don't want to be too close, or too far away." He paused, flashing her a sheepish grin - he did feel bad to lay down such truth, or at least his version of it. Yet, he begun once more just as fast, grinning more widely now. "You are a different wolf, though. Praetor is a different wolf. He knows where I did wrong and so, he won't make my mistakes."

It felt unusual to admit to mistakes, at least for him. He had done his best and yet, he had begun to realize that sometimes his best was not always the best. He had faith in his son, though, and he had faith in the woman he had seemingly become so attached to. They had... a connection, it seemed, when he had come seeking aid in Iromar so long ago and now, it had become something so much more. It made him realize how long he had been gone. What else had he missed? He tried not to think about it. Instead, he leaned in towards Aithne with a curious gaze, his eyes befallen upon her side. "Are you... sure?" He had to ask. He had to know that...he'd perhaps be able to fix things in some ways. He'd be here more now. He might even have a purpose again.