If you keep cutting the head off, they'll keep on growing; if too many grow, they'll simply eat one another alive. I cannot help but allow the smallest of laughter to pass my lips at the sentiment, nodding in quiet agreement at his implication. While the ravines stay quiet now, I hold little doubt that they will stir once more. Part of me is inclined to encourage the boy to be the one who stirs and yet, part of me is inclined to do otherwise. After all, I enjoy him here. To lose him to the unpredictability of leadership? It does not sound all that amusing. Perhaps in time but for now, I am content to watch the world unfold around us. It is easier to understand with two minds. If idle paws are the devil's playground, then surely it is best to have more sets of paws, no?

But tonight, I find myself desiring something other than knowledge of Moladion and its inhabitants; rather, I am taking it upon myself to reach out to a wolf who seems unlike himself. Perhaps it is a small change and yet, Arcturus is unreadable at best and so, it is that small change that makes me believe this itch he has is a persistent one at that. His words seem to confirm it and my ears turn to him then, my eyes resting evenly upon his own as he baits me with his cousins. It is Stella, though, that makes my brow twitch. There was suspicion perhaps, a vague familiarity in his features and size, and yet never had I known him to be born of her. At one point, I had expected she and I would be the one's to cull Devil May Cry. At one point, I would have considered her strong. I would have considered her like I consider Arcturus now.

When he speaks of Elijah and his parentage, I cannot help but laugh once more. I shake my head slowly, amused by his thoughts on such a matter. "They say Angel blood is so strong and yet, it mingles once with a wolf such as Tobias and they consider it anything but angelic," I muse with my head tilted, tasting the venom of absurdity. Hypocrisy truly.

Yet, he continues, his mind seemingly opening up before me. I listen intently, my eyes turning towards the sea though so as to not impose on his personal space. I simply absord what it is that he tells me, my ear flickering and my hackles twitching in response to the familiarity of his words regarding his imprint. My own stirs such an emotion within me - hunger, insatiability and yet, it is a bloodthirsty kind. Never have I felt a fondness or a closeness to her; she is the personification, the physical manifestation, of my weaknesses. She clings to my brother. She reminds me that I will be weak if I, too, cling to such folly things in such a way. When he falls silent, it is the first thing I think of. "My own is much the same. They are weakness incarnate and so, they are like a clear lake in such regards. Whereas we grow strong, they reflect back only a distorted, weakened image," I muse, my teeth clenching at the thought for a moment before I do my best to smooth my features, my lapse of restraint brought upon by Arcturus' own openness. "If ever there is a time you no longer with for such a reflection, there are... those around you that would be willing to wipe it away." The words are quieter now as I utter them, my mind immediately turning to Underidge and even myself. There is a curiosity there, after all. For so long, I have contemplated consuming each and every inch of Lihi and yet, a part of me wishes to wait and see what such a thing would cause. Would her removal bring weakness upon me? Perhaps Arcturus would show me the answer to such a question.

"You are not your blood," I speak again after several short moments of silence, my eyes turning to him now, narrowed in contemplation, "blood does little more than give our eyes colour and our fur pattern. Your siblings may be weak and yet, you are not. Your mother may fail and yet, you will not. You create your own strength, Arcturus." I shift on the spot as I turn away, my brows furrowing as I ponder this. It is... strange to say such things, I think. It is an unusual thing to do so. I have not done so before and yet, it feels almost cathartic to do so. Only to him, I think. The others? They do not know this world like he does.