It was strange to be listened to. It made him both surprised and yet, it also sought to drive him into himself even further. He battled the urge though and remained with the male, his attention wavering at times but present nonetheless. Still, it had at least given Wraith the thought that he had grown to like this new leader already, or at least held him in the same regard as he had held Halcyon and Aster. It was comforting, he thought.

But Wraith was generally a man of few words whereas it seemed Arturio had many; he had to admit he was a little pleased when they both fell into mutual silence. It gave Wraith's mind time to relax, to unwind the build up of thoughts that had sought to overwhelm him as they trudged through the snow and slush. His steps were slow, deliberate, ensuring the fastest path before they'd arrive at the rock structure that had become Asteraia's tomb; the Monster's den still lifted from the snow, its entrance sealed by stone and ice and yet, it had given enough shelter below its outcrop to spare the graves Halcyon had created for Aster and his own family. Wraith paused some distance away,
turning towards Arturio before he motioned for him to go forward to investigate first.

He waited, unmoving, his eyes fixated on the stones that marked each empty grave. Only when Arturio had been given enough time to consider each one did Wraith suddenly move, his movement stiff as if he had partially frozen over. He swayed with each step as he brought himself towards Arturio, lowering his nose to the grave with a cautious sniff. "Old blood here....," he rasped, an eye meeting Arturio, "some say...it is - uh - good luck...to ask for...their help." His words were tired, an oddity that often seemed to drive others to annoyance and yet, it seemed that Arturio did not mind. Patience. Is that what made a good leader?

He fell silent again then and slowly, he lowered himself so that he might press his forehead towards where the marker for Praetor had been placed. "Nephew," he spoke softly, tentatively, as if addressing his relation might somehow bring about some curse or ill luck. His entire breathing stopped after the word, a caution fell upon him but slowly, he closed his eyes and merely embraced that sensation. It was the first time he had done such a thing - ask his blood for any kind of aid - and though it felt strange, he felt as if he had chosen the right wolf to be with for such a moment at least.