There were times when she was alone. There were times when she was away from the fields. There were times when she was driven to go to places to search for something she hoped still existed. She had found his body, knew of the death and knew of the scent who remained on his flesh, but her mind is not one educated with the perception granted to one with words. There was a possibility that her own flesh and blood still lived on, as he often did in the grotto. She would attempt to seek him out now and then, attempt to seek out the female with violet eyes as well as she once fought off an attacker for her.

Yes, there were many reasons she was drawn to the grotto upon white long limbs. Her reasons for coming though, were not always her reasons for staying. Before she reaches the grotto itself, she sees another moving to its entrance. There was an...aura to him. The way he held himself, the way he walked, it was not as one strong would act. Immediately her senses are heightened as she crouches low in grass and high snow. Her lava pools watch him, sizing him up and trying to make sense of his demeanor.

He gives her a sense of weakness. A sense of prey. A sense that bothered her. She did not linger for long once he entered the grotto. No, she followed, her limb quiet as she quickly made her way in after him. There was darkness here, but she was not phased. She spent much time in the grotto over her many years of life in Moladion. The woman of flame and fire knew many of the paths and depths when she would try to find her flesh and blood who lived here. There was no fear in her bright eyes surrounded by dark coal of eyeliner- a terrifying sight to many. She knew she had to follow and assess the aura that drew her in like moth to flame- how she felt as if his weakness would only feed her strength.

She did not follow closely, and she moved when he moved. A simply strategy to ensure she is not heard and one she learned early in her years. Her head peeks around a rock, just enough for her flaming orb to set upon the rigged and uncertain younger male. He was hard to figure out, difficult to understand as such a state of his was unacceptable. She feels her coal, ash, and flame licked hackles raise and her lithe form puff.

She rounds the corner in a sudden lunge. She feels the cold sting of rock upon her paws. She lands only feet away from him, her form tall, head high yet face lowered with hint of aggression. A growl rumbled from her lips as stood with legs parted- a fighting stance and one of dominance with tail lifted. Yet, she does not attack. He gives off a weak aura- but a confusing one. She is driven to him like prey and yet not quite driven to take a bite. She lets her growl grow larger, mingling with the sound of roaring water, engulfing the cave with her power and might of will. She makes a very slight false lunge at him- testing him, prodding at his aura and his soul- and figuring out what his worth was in this world.