The dark and silver boy simply watches the little female before him, his strangely white-ringed tail looping about his paws as those evergreen eyes rest upon her, watching as she scowls and her ears fold back in displeasure at the words he offers- as if his presence before her is not good enough, as if she expects he should bring her something each time. If this is an expected custom he is unfamiliar with it, perhaps it is the way of Angels? Is that not the name of the wolves of Diveen? Has his mother mislead him by failing to teach him some custom? His own frown in momentary, a contemplation that affords his young face a great seriousness well beyond his years before he seems to dismiss it. Nothing will be demanded of him. If his Mother cannot rouse him into action a child his own age, a girl at that, will not force from him anything he does not desire to do outright. He is not nearly so aggressive as his bloodline would dictate yet he is stubborn to the last and perhaps such are the hormones of a young boy that he is well within a phase which demands from him a certain reckless need to defy what is expected of him. Why had he not bought her anything?

“I did not know you would want anything. Now I know.”

It is a simple answer, Gunsynd rarely given to speak unnecessary words, the boy…direct, if nothing else and yet his words are neither cruel nor unkind, simply honest as he regards her before the barest trace of humour seems to weave its way within the next words he offers, assured his presence alone should be enough of a gift to her before he asks why should she desire anything aside from that- her answer coming with a swiftness that alarms the young Prince, head tilted slightly to one side in some vague expression of confusion as she declares herself his girlfriend. For a moment he is silent, contemplating the words she offers him.

“Are you?”

He is unfamiliar with that term entirely, Nevermore truly the only girl, aside from his Mother, whom he is ever given to talk to and the term ‘girlfriend’ has never been used. Is it perhaps another term for sister? For now he remains silent upon it, watching the girl still, awaiting some explanation on the term before she continues, declaring that bringing her things was a way to gain her attention and why else would he have come to Diveen if he had not desired it. His features frown again, if only slightly, before his shoulders offer a shrug of sorts, his response evidently non-committal though his lip quirks briefly upwards all the same.

“Maybe I came to see another girl?”

He is teasing her now, though his voice remains serious, tail flicking lightly behind him in cheek as he does, a soft, boyish chuckle rolling within his throat- a truly rare sound for the Asteraian Prince though his youthful features remain near-emotionless all the same, one eye lifting ever so slightly as if he desires to play an entirely new game with her- teasing her as she teases him with her demands for a rock of some kind.

“Very well then. If I want to bring you something I will and if I don’t- I won’t. But what do I get from you?”

Surely if she is his girlfriend then it goes both ways, doesn’t it? His voice serious once more as he regards her, evidently awaiting a response as he continues to sit before her- the borderline still between them. She was not like Nevermore this girl, she was bossy and pushy and loud- like his sister, a trait he thinks all girls must surely have- but she was different too and it is this difference perhaps, that seems to hold his attention, that draws his curiosity as so few do. Gunsynd, after all, pays little attention to anyone- they simply do not interest him in turn, his mind given to focus on other things. It is simply the way he is. His asking for her name seems to earn a smile before she offers it. Zarah. That he will remember. Zarah of Diveen.

“It’s Gunsynd.”

Silver touched black ears prick forward, waiting for the usual response to his name, few wolves seeming to understand it, most commenting upon its strangeness though truly Gun is hardly given to care, it was a name, it was inconsequential- it meant nothing to him truly though it was his own to wear.

“Your parents- they ran that butterfly competition didn’t they? Are they Alpha’s here?”

He is curious, to an extent, of the world around him. The softly spoken boy far more aware then he ever truly displays, interested, it would seem, in knowing where exactly his girlfriend was from as he peers into the pack. It was…more hilly then Asteraia, the cliffs in the distance strange to him as he watches before turning the green of his gaze back to Zarah now.

“Why are you blinking your eyes like that?”

Her attempts at flirtation, it would seem, have fallen upon a boy not yet entirely old enough to appreciate it, his own head tilted slightly to the side as he does.

“It makes your eyes look big.”

Well. At least he noticed.