Her trip to Asteraia had been most enlightening. Usually a girl of rather muted emotions, even she was a bit excited to share what she had learned with Eden. Perhaps she would be telling him things that he had already guessed, or even already knew, though as ubiqutiuous as her grandfather's knowledge seemed to be, he couldn't know everything. Some things must still be in shadows, even for him. Her trek back from the plains was relatively simple, with little distraction. As she walked, the girl mused over her observations of Arturio, and who had left with Aster and her children. She did not know their names, nor were they of much importance, but the great white knight seemed to have collected a few new members as well. He still had a solid base on which to form a pack.

Adonai moved past the borders of Glorall with effortless grace, now moving into her third year, her body had filled out quite substantially. Her mother's beauty, though taller and more delicate, a ghostly dancer upon the shores of the beach. She felt no need to call for her grandfather, as they would find each other eventually-- undoubtedly, the older male had been awaiting her return. Information, she thought, may be more precious than food to him. It was, at least, something for her to focus on that wasn't the mystery of her sire, nor her place in the world. Not her curiously missing brother, either. Admittedly, she missed him, if not only for the mild entertainment of having another soul around. She had already begun to move out of her mother's den, to the woman's chagrin, but there was an... energy among those scattered pelts and saltwater-darkened rocks, that clung to her fur like tar.

It was not an escape. In their own way, the mother and daughter pair did care for each other, but there was a darkness between them that overshadowed any sort of real love. Or perhaps the darkness was the love. Sickly, pathetic, shrouded. Adonai did not want those things to characterize her life, and so, she must turn away. Ehiyeh's lessons had not fallen on deaf ears, and perhaps it was not sadness, but pride that shone in her violet eyes. The girl could only guess at the emotions of a woman no one but her uncle seemed to quite understand. It was only right that she should seek her own path, far away from the den on the sea and all the trouble that came with it.

Her ears flicked backwards, hearing the crunch of sand underpaw, and she turned. "Ego cognovi te non invenient me, Avum." (I knew you would find me, Grandfather.) There was a small smirk upon her muzzle, but she was playful if only to probe-- how was he feeling today? That would dictate the nature of her responses. "Camposque invisentes multa didici. Quo mihi incipere velis?" (I learned many things from my visit to the plains. Where would you like me to begin?) She inquired, her head resting at a tilt. She remembered the days where she would have to crane her neck just to catch a glimpse of his copper eyes. Ah, they were on far more equal footing, now.