She had a brother once. Galileo. He had left though. Somehow, she had believed they might have grown up together, destined to uncover the mysteries of the world side by side. She had been neglectful though. She hadn't been quite right for that fate, it seemed. Her attention had turned to her father then; she had always wanted to be like him. She dreamed of being alongside him, smart and full of wit and yet, the winds had picked her up and dropped her in a foreign land before she knew it. She hadn't been right for that either. Time and time again, she had seen these plans crumble. Her new siblings - young as they were - had been another opportunity and yet, they had scattered in the wind too. She had been left with a hole inside her, she felt, that she hadn't been able to work out how to fill. All the stories in the world did nothing; all the strange herbs and bizarre meats did nothing; all the measurements and calculations. Nothing worked. So, what could possibly be different now? Of course she was afraid of not being quite right.

Yet, he said he could understand and for once, she believed it. Though her brow might have twitched in response, as if goading him forward to give her up what made him understand, she felt humbled by what he had said. It almost felt wrong to have felt otherwise. Why shouldn't he have been able to understand? He had come from nothing - as far as Pandora knew, at least - and he had fast discovered that the one's he stood beside were not infallible. Twice. Had he thought the same as her before? That he wasn't quite right for his own plans? She pondered yet she did not speak, content to catch his words with a quiet breath inwards.

"I choose to be there always," she spoke finally, her words breathless and yet, a certain hint of her had returned - more confident now as an almost mischevious grin pressed the corner of her lip, "one way or another." After all, she had not entirely forgotten why she had been caught in such a storm anyway. In a sense, the change in the atmosphere allowed her to return into her shell and yet, it had felt good to divulge some small part of herself to him. In return, he had done the same and for once, she had been able to truly admire the beauty that hid within his own shell. Bright, gossamer, startling really. But she had meant what she had said. It showed in the way she quietly tucked herself in closer to him.

"Armiger," she repeated, allowing herself to flop onto him as she twisted slightly onto her back - she dangled a paw above her, reveling quietly in their closeness but pretending to be merely considering the word itself. "There is much work to do in such a position. After all, you're entirely new. Not a name other than your own to speak of." Was it not true? He had come from the lands beyond without a pack or a family to support his claim. She had hardly a problem with it - in fact, she had been positive that the leaders of each pack were becoming more and more related, a rather undesirable trait really - and yet, she understood there were... issues that could come with such a thing.

"We should call a meeting," she sounded almost surprised at the thought, her head twisting about so she could face him, "a meeting of alphas, be they present or heirs, princesses or queens. All of those with power, I suppose. But not in Spirane, I think. Perhaps the fields come spring - flowers, I suppose, are quite well liked after all." She had contemplated - for a moment at least and with a flick of her ear - if they ought to invite the gypsy woman. For now, though, she allowed the thought to pass her by. Tithe could make his own decisions, after all. She merely wanted to be a part of it, big or small.