Thin. It is the first thing he noticed. Her eyes seemed less bright. They seemed less like stars and more like the space between them. Her very appearance made his head tilt, slow and deliberate as he considered her. It is not out of malic that he makes her differences so known but rather, he wishes to acknowledge them - he lacks a reason to conceal that he notices. Instead, his eyes roamed and settled on her own soon enough, an unspoken question in their midsts. Just how bad had she become? He had never expected to find her in such a state even considering the circumstances. For a moment, he had been convinced that her fire would have been stronger than that.

It is was when she mentioned her aunt that his ear flickered, curious. His brows furrowed momentarily. Tell her aunt? What else was there to tell? Her father and mother had lost Iromar...was that not it? He had supposed she had become an orphan through choice almost, her parents driven from the territories. "Tell..." he pondered, an eye on Halcyon but his attention on Aster, "why not...tell all?" Everybody. Why not? Was she hiding something? He did not pry however. He merely asked and then pivoted at her request.

With that, he began their slow path forward, sure to take a route in which Iromar remained predominantly out of view; it was not so difficult to do so, not with the sloping hills that began to rise and fall around Glorall. He was not entirely sure how to feel with she and the other male following them but it felt more right than having left them there. In any case, eventually he chose to speak, addressing Halcyon now. "Once, you showed me food." He nodded in affirmation, making it a fact, as he remembered his time in Iromar. "We ought to do so again. Find Aster food." He motioned towards her with his muzzle, paused for a moment as his eyes lingered on Halcyon. The look spoke all that needed to be said: they would have to tend to her. She was neither well nor a burning flame anymore.