His call is full of youth; it is a peculiar sound, naive in its innocence and weak in its timbre. The sound of youth is one Glorall has heard some times this last season, the ocean's call apparently summoning a barrage of younger wolves who sought some kind of reason for being. I cannot say I am opposed to such things and yet, I can only hope they do not seek a father in me, or any other childish sentiment. This pack may be a family of sorts, a mismatched collection of others, and yet I refuse the idea of being depended on for every part of another's life. Even my own blood did not receive such coddling. At least, this voice does not seem so desperate or starved for such a thing; there is some inkling of purpose to it. With such hesitancy, however, I am inclined to make them wait; I give myself ample time to lope across the slopes of Glorall's mainland, observing the sights and sounds of winter as the snow breaks the sparse canopy above.

I observe his scent on the breeze too; foreign and unknown, young and male. He is of no particular curiosity to me, though I am curious of his purpose of calling me, particularly when he seems so reluctant to do so. There is a second thought, I feel, behind his voice. I cannot help but wonder what that may be. Of course, these thoughts keep me entertained well enough and I soon find his figure waiting on the borderlands. He is young and gangly and yet, his build speaks of his future; he will grow large and broad, I am sure, his colouration one that is commonly seen in a very particular bloodline. I wonder then, with a brief tilt of my eyebrow, if I am about to encounter yet another relative. It is always a curious thing to meet them, to discover whether they are more me or more Solaris than one another. Often times, they are a little less of both, and much more of Heyel's arrogance.

I come to stand before him now, a comfortable distance as my tail arches slightly, my eyes locking on to the green of his own. There is a familiarity to them and their particular shade, though I pay it little heed; did Heyel not say, however, that eyes never lied? If that is the case then he will see fast enough that I demand a causation for his appearance fast; I am not impatient by nature but his call makes me believe he might not know entirely why he is here himself. When he does begin to speak, I offer him a small nod of acknowledgement, using this time to truly observe the formation of his body and patterns. I will remember him, after all, regardless of the direction of this meeting. I do my best to ensure I never forget a face.

His words make my mouth crack open, revealing an amused grin for a moment before I compose my features once more. My brow creeps up, however, as I begin to speak. "An offer of save haven?" I parrot his words, tasting them on my tongue for a moment, "I do not believe I ever offered such a thing. Since when, I wonder, does the mouth of another speak for their king in such a way? I extended a paw, yet I never said why. Tristan has made promises, perhaps." I pause, my lips turning up into a grin ever so small. I do not speak with malicious intent, merely truth, after all. "But a promise from one in his position is not one everybody must abide."

Any wolf who understands this world should know such a thing; the promise of a king or queen is just as much wind as any other wolf. Yet, a hierarchy dictates we believe one and not the other. I suppose Tristan has done well in that regard, finding kindness in my words and using them. Good for him and yet, I wonder how this wolf will take such a thing. Nonetheless, I move to speak once more, shifting my weight just in case he takes it upon himself to get haughty. "I will have you, of course," I state simply, my eyes drifting momentarily behind him as if to some figure out of sight, "But for her, she will need to speak with me herself. Is there a reason, I wonder, why she has sent another?" My head falls into a tilt, genuinely curious of this; is he a son? A companion? Or has she ulterior motives in this? I am not opposed to offer her safety, after all, if she truly desires it and if I, too, garner such a thing and yet, I am hesitant to speak through the mouth of another.