It had been some time since he had felt the pang of such strong guilt; he had felt it first the moment he had seen Praetor's eyes and even moreso when he had taken off before Leviathan had been able to utter a word. It felt as if the guilt weighed him down, his movements sluggish in the marshes, and yet he fought through it nonetheless. He had to. He hadn't a choice in the matter - if he continued to fail, he wasn't sure he'd know how to get back up again.

His son's silence had made his eyes hard as they met the familiar gaze; he stared ahead, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. He had to admit that he felt a spike of anger at his son's silence, his refusal to give explanation an insufferable reminder that Tesseract perhaps did not deserve it. Even when he felt the presence of Leviathan take position not so far away, he had been unable to relax. Only when the childish voice of Lazarus piped up that Tesseract had been able to look aside, his eyes trailing down to the find the dark child, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had taken hold in the mists.

Instantly, his face softened into a more amiable expression. He ducked his head low in a bow of greeting, addressing the child with a voice much less strained, and yet, he had barely been able to conceal the sullen nature as he realized the precise hue of his grandchild's eyes; he had been able to see Caligula in them. "Lazarus," he repeated the name, pleased with its simplicity and strength, "it's truly a pleasure to finally meet you."

The boy's question had caught him off guard and though he grinned warmly at the child, he rose to face his own son now. His face had become more solemn once more, his ears back somewhat as he attempted to articulate it just right. It... would never be easy to explain. Was it better to lie to the child? To Praetor? Perhaps Praetor could come to understand... but a child... it seemed cruel to burden him with the realities of love and a lack of so young. Instead, he gave a Praetor an intense look before he softened once more, peering down at Lazarus. "She is out on a grand adventure, Lazarus," he said with a nod of affirmation, his voice guised beneath a tone of excitement, "discovering new kingdoms and valleys for us all to explore some day." He hoped such an answer would suffice for, at least to him, it seemed like a kinder version of the truth. He had no doubt she was alive, after all. She had simply grown too tired of him or of them all.

For now though, he hoped it'd do - he'd tell Praetor if he had the chance but not a child. He hoped Praetor could understand that. But he had other matters to attend to it seemed. He had been able to feel the uncertainty practically radiate off of Leviathan and his son's own uncertainty about her had become palpible. "Praetor, Lazarus," he turned towards Leviathan now, beckoning her forward with a slight motion of his muzzle, "this is Leviathan. She lived in Glorall for some time but she has been helping me lately. My leg is... not so good, you see." He grinned sheepishly, kicking out his back leg slightly to emphasise it; even now, the fur parted slightly across the scars, evidence of the savagery that had taken place some time ago. He wasn't sure if Leviathan had it in her to announce herself and so, he had taken it upon himself. He simply wanted to find peace and it seemed like he'd need to be the one to make it first.