When had he become busy? Lately, he had begun to stretch himself thin across Moladion, a piece of him in each and every crevice it seemed. At times, he wondered if he'd get to experience the feeling of a break, of pulling apart at the seams - that's what happened, right? When one was stretched so far, they had to eventually break. Part of him expected it, another feared it but yet another almost reveled in its inevitability. It was a wonder his sister's condition had not instilled a more prominent fear within him. Perhaps that was part of him - he wanted to be able to relate.

It was easy for him to become lost in his own thoughts now and yet, today he had set off with a clear mission in mind - to find his sister with the knowledge that their father had elected to take the children for the day. Elohim had yet to entirely understand what had occurred in the seasons past and yet, he understood it to be a darkness and a shadow that which no light could entirely destroy. They had always been shadows but nobody could compare to the one that haunted Ehiyeh.

It took him some time to find her, however. She had always been elusive, the blood of their mother far stronger within her veins perhaps, but Elohim had dedicated himself to the cause. He took to her with his usual quietness, a gentleness in his stride as he issued a low bark from quite a distance, a forewarning so that she might chase him away if she desired time alone. If that were the case then he would take to being a ghost to her, a guardian nonetheless. But when she did not do so, he took it upon himself to lope forward, his posture low and unimposing as it typically was. Though not a submissive wolf, Elohim preferred a...nondescript existence much of the time.

He moved several feet from her at her shoulder, keeping pace as he eyed her briefly with a tilt of his head. "Sister,' he spoke the Latin tongue, a thing of familiarity before the two, "I noticed your prizes, your trophies, by the wayside. Did you forget them? Do you need more?" On the shores, he had found pieces of the dead that he knew had been hers at one point, or perhaps Erebos' but nonetheless, they had not belonged in such a place. He wondered if she had perhaps misplaced them, if perhaps her children had taken to the water with them as if they were things to be played with so roughly. It had never been a thought in his mind that she had stopped loving them.