She looked at the white wolf, head tilting slightly to the side. His slow words eased into her consciousness. She looked back down at the reflective surface, contemplating the ripples and movements of the flow. It was an interesting thought, one that danced lightly with the ideas Zeus had begun to instil on her.

Is that not what makes it more powerful? To have the ability to create and destroy, to nourish and drown? It has the choice to wipe life away or to bring it back. She looked up at Wrath, a smile curling on her lips, eyes shining with a moment of clarity that showed the shift from pup to growing wolfess.

His next question took her by surprise. Was she afraid? She had faced death in the hands of winter more than once. Been abandoned by a family who swore they loved her. Been chased by a wild crazed woman and spent the night in the hands of a god to watch the storms rise over the horizon. She was, actually, humble in her stature though her life had already been filled at such a young age. Answers themselves held no notes of fear. It was the unknown questions that concerned her.

No. Answers do not scare me. Questions do. You never know what the question is, but you can always seek and answer.