Just as he had decided not to enact some foul game in the grotto, he had just so easily decided not to lie to the woman who had given him answers. She had been curious enough to follow him into the darkness of his own curiosity and, he supposed, strong enough to stand confidently in the shadows and reek of death and speak of a lack of fear. Did that not prove some intrinsic value to her? He had wondered if she had more answers or, better yet, questions. He had grown to desire whatever knowledge she might possess much in the same way he had desired such a thing in the woman, Enya. One had desired to become an instigator of fear and the other, a resister. He liked to imagine the juxtaposition.

In any case, he had yet to return to Glorall. He had taken a fondness to the free lands, free from the clinging nature of the salt and the blustering winds and storms of summer. Here, he had been able to cleanse himself, a fresh slate ready to be chewed up by whatever forced might take him. He had considered testing his luck on the boundaries of another pack, curious as to their inner workings just as he had been curious of Iromar's. He contemplated Spirane: its recent turmoil captivated him, his mind awash with thoughts of the violence and just what purpose they presumed it served. Folly, perhaps. He had never been the one to fight for power. But then he had heard a howl and that had made him contemplate something else entirely.

See, she had a recognizable voice. Even in song form, it made his ears flicker in recognition. She had a voice unlike the others he had met: a hint of reluctance, deep and stoic. It was not the voice of one so often used, he thought. It only made sense that her howl ushered in a familiar sensation then and so, a keeper of promises it would seem, he obliged to respond. Unlike those that called out in response however, he simply moved with his trademark silence.

By the treeline, he waited. He blended with the shadows, as still as the very trunk of the tree in which he rested beside; he watched keenly as two others joined the woman. Pale, he thought, like doves. One pranced about with an unusual flavor of eagerness, something that made his ears rise to attention as he observed the peculiar nature of such a display; as for the other, he immediately noticed her more reluctant nature. She spoke and yet, she did not dance nor even stand with pride. She sunk back like an afterthought. Fear, he thought, but what is lurking in her silence? For now, he had simply come to observe. He hadn't lied, though. He had found her. He had come again. But this time, he had not decided just what side of himself he would announce.