The boy had grown - though the slow maturation of his body did not necessarily make him a man. Nearly a year had passed since his mother had encouraged him to attend the celebration of his second birthday, where he'd met a few other wolves his age. It still set his teeth on edge when he thought of that girl Jakuta - trying to claim she was the daughter of a god and that such a desolate place as Asteraia could house anything even remotely resembling perfection. Even now he scoffed as he recalled the girl. Though she had caught his eye when she'd arrived - the only other wolf of fair pelage present - as soon as she'd opened her mouth he knew she was a fraud. She, the daughter of a god? Nike knew himself to be Everlast and Zeus' only child, obviously meaning he was the only - how had she put it? - Demi-God in Moladion. Fool.

His mind stewed on the matter, as it sometimes did when left to wander. But as soon as Everlast moved to approach him his ears pricked forward and his silvery eyes lifted to her face. Nike only ever wanted his mother to feel happiness, and he knew that Zeus' disappearance had caused her unrest. If the boy had resented his father before, he had well and truly developed a hatred for him now. The way Everlast had come and gone, pacing and searching to a point where she had begun to lose weight, Nike blamed it all on Zeus. If he ever came back, Nike would make sure he paid for the pain and suffering he'd caused his mother. But for now, he focused on keeping his mother happy, on brightening her every day in whatever way possible.

As she approached, Nike whined happily and his tail thumped against the den floor. The touch of her tongue to his face sent a wave of euphoria over the boy, and he answered by licking her chin appreciatively, the act full of affection and love. His silvery eyes half-closed in relaxation, until she nipped at a stubborn patch on his ear and he started, looking up at her. When their eyes met he smiled. What other wolves did they need, when they had each other? "Only if you are, mother. Would you like me to fetch something for you?" Though it was a kind offer, it was somewhat empty. Though he approached three years of age, he was not yet a proficient hunter. He had tried to help his mother when possible, but she had a tendency to dote on him more often than not, meaning he never really had a need to learn the skill. And yet, he would still try - for her.