Perhaps there is truth to the sentiment of one choosing their own family; surely there is more free will to such a thing than those assigned to us by birth and blood. My own children are barely my own, a product of their own upbringing as they saunter in and out of my life. In such a case, do they truly count as family? Such a trifling word. If I am honest, I prefer the company of wolves such as Arcturus than to my own sons; I know Arcturus and his strengths, his weaknesses, his potentials. Those born of myself and the two women? I know only of Eloah and Elohim it seems and even then, both are content to elude me. Of course, I am not bothered by such frivolous sentiment. I merely observe.

I am pleased when Arcturus reciprocates well to my presence. I give him a nod of acknowledge as he utters my name, a nod of knowing shared between the pair of us. His is a name I shan't share; it was a promise I made to Dieloch perhaps and yet, it holds more true in the case of the younger boy. Dieloch, after all, is a valuable piece to play. In due time, the truth of giving over his monikor will prove its merits. Arcturus though? He is dangerous in the right ways and so, I shall safeguard him. Though, I often believe he does not need guarding at all.

He is quick to move the conversation, the smallest of chuckles breaking my own silence as I bask in the strangeness the world has fallen beneath; Diveen without Achilles and a mountain under siege. It is an odd turn of events, no? "The head has been cut off and yet, we shall have to wait and see if a new one grows back," I shrug the words away though my eyes drift towards the direction of Diveen with the faintest of tilts; Heyel was dead and yet, his blood still soaked Moladion like an infestation. I wonder, then, if Achilles leave will diminish such a thing. There are few as proud and as absorbed in the mythos of Angels as he is as far as I know. There are few, too, that are as feared by those that seek power. Without him, what shall happen?

I pause for a moment, my eyes turning to him once more as I observe him. He is like myself in a sense, unwilling to allow emotion or expression to intrude my features without explicit consent. Still, I do my best to read him, to feel the air around him; an unspoken tension and yet, is there ever not? Nonetheless, I sink down further into comfort before I speak again, my eyes turning back to the ocean as I flex my toes into the sand. "It is not the ravines or mountains I grow curious of however," I begin with a flick of my ear, "but rather you." I wait for a moment, watching him from my peripherals with intrigue before I continue. "Everything around us has changed and so, I wonder what has changed within. Equilliberium, so to say." It is a gentle push but a push nonetheless. I must... get to know my pack better, especially those that cause intrigue. He is simply the one I seek to know the best, I believe.