Ever the observant creature, Ripper had long since taken notice of the fact that he did not fit in well with the other plains wolves. And yet he had chosen to remain, because the land itself held some type of meaning for his sister. Despite the dull pull in his chest to travel westward in search of Masque, he stayed for Sekhmet, sensing that she needed him more than the spritely girl he'd met in the spring did at this point in time. Though he could not see her to know such a thing, he could feel it in his bones; whereas watching his volatile sibling was evidence enough that she needed him around. What he could not deduce, however, was why she lingered in Asteraia. It was not the land of their birth, and yet she seemed to crave it beneath her paws. Now, however, something seemed to have shifted in her. Always changing, always growing and becoming stronger. And Ripper continued to watch, the distance between them growing narrower with each passing season.

As if to confirm her proclamation of their strength, the beastly boy leaned down and stripped another portion of meat from the wolf's carcass. No wolf could look upon this pair of siblings and decry their physical prowess. She was right - they were strength incarnate. Perhaps in different ways, and Ripper's far more literal than anything else. He swallowed the bite he had taken and his ears rotated backwards at her words. Followers, possessions. Hazel yellow eyes scrutinized her for a moment, considering her meaning. They were young yet, and though they'd not been raised within the bounds of a pack, dominance had its place in any grouping of wolves - whether it be three or thirty. Sekhmet had shown an unwillingness to submit from her youngest days, perhaps bolstered by her brother's apathetic attitude in regards to mounting the pecking order. The pieces slowly fell into place within his mind, the subtle lessons he'd learned from watching pack and rogue wolves alike.

Ears perked back towards her as she answered his question of where she would go from here. Roam; that was all he needed. He felt shackles he hadn't realized were weighing him down shed from his limbs. Nostrils flared as his pulse quickened, strangely excited by this action found in inaction. Succinct words fell from his sister's lips, her intentions veiled and yet laid bare before him. Something still troubled her, something beyond what his knowledge and observations could reveal, but as she looked back to him there was a somber resoluteness to her gaze. Finally, she posed a question to him, and he stepped across the carcass to move alongside her. "Yes, sister," he answered deftly. Lowering his head just below hers, he dipped the crown of his head towards her, offering her the ears upon which she had so long ago used to stake her claim on him.

And yet, even as he offered his devotion to his sister, there was the pulling in the pit of his stomach, that desire to seek out Masque and stay by her side as well. But today that feeling was pushed down - for the wolf whom he had entered this world with needed him, and he would not deny her.