He is beginning to understand the world more, he thinks. Around them all, others continue to make decisions that seem to lead to ruin; he wonders to himself how long it might be before he too makes such choices or if anybody ever really had to. He wonders, too, what decisions his parents had made to lead to Moteuh's fate - though, he finds himself still unable to entirely believe she was truly dead. Shem had both seen and felt dead and, to him at least, the name Moteuh did not inspire such things in his mind. Instead, it conjured only images of her, not the stained and shredded remains of prey alike. Funny, he thinks, that she remains a child in his mind even as his paws grow and his mind grows keener. The dead, it seems, stay children forever.

In any case, he is yet to give up on his mission despite Asriel's interest elsewhere; it is natural, he supposes, for his brother to grow as such. His brother seeks out time in Glorall and yet Shem seeks it in the free lands, sure that something will eventually lead him to answers. It is that ceaseless curiosity and drive that leads him down to the grotto and into the darkness of its caverns; here, he thinks, is the ideal place for answers. The world is dark and quiet and whispers travel far and deep within the earth. He sits there in that darkness, an ear turned towards the cavern's entrance and exit, strangely comfortable in his place. If there is one thing to be gained from his denial, it is certainly patience.

But soon there are voices - far away, murmurs, nothing but whisperes that rouse only his curiosity and not his understanding. His eyes slide open as he rises to his paws, slipping away from the crude pathway and against the slick stone to his side. He presses against it, brows furrowing as he attempts to make out the words but soon, there is only silence. He waits with bated breath, the sound of footsteps eventually beginning down the path.

"Careful where you tread." He cuts the silence before she can encroach on him though he remains concealed in the shadows, his dark fur lending to his disguise. His accent is strong, his voice resonating with the confidence of his father. It is a suggestion, he thinks, and a test at once. He wonders if she'll turn on her heels and run or if she might be like him, seeking answers down here in the dark.