Only the dead could stay children forever: too-long legs and wide eyed wonder tailng behind a woman who moved like a dark ghost across the dunes and into nothingness. It was something he had buried deep within himself and he wondered, at Ehiyeh's words, if Achlys and Eros had begun to sprout roots within him. He wondered if Samhain had done the same to her. It was as if that very thought had driven Ehiyeh to think of him for she leaned into him and he responded in kind, as if reaching out for some kind of unfathomable comfort as his mind was awash.

He listened closely, his head having moved to rest atop her own ever so gently as she seemed to crumble beneath him. Sometimes he worried she might blow away in the breeze. Maybe that was what drove him closer to him - if he could lend her himself, it might be enough to keep some part of her here. Sorry mother, he thought as a gust swept around his paws, but I am not ready to give her over.

"They would understand," and that he was certain of if only because he had seen Adonai and how quickly she had learnt to navigate through the world and because he had to believe badness was not in their blood. If it were, it meant it was in he and Ehiyeh's too. "If you need to see him, I know where he is." Or at least, he knew well enough. The words had been quiet, concealed just for them, as he sought to find a new path that lead her out from this place and to something new. The woodlands had many paths, perhaps one of them could lead his sister home.

When she spoke once more, he peeled away to meet her eyes, as if to try feign strength where within himself, he felt himself coil up. "Fear and hate you say? Perhaps I failed to learn the difference somewhere along the way," he tried to brush it aside but she was...well, disarming. She did not even need to try and sometimes, it made him even afraid of perhaps. "Do you not? Our father's love is a strange thing, don't you think? Who knows what else he might do for it, or for others. Does motivation remove the damage he can do?" His voice was still gentle, perhaps even as vacant as her own, as his eyes drifted back to the world around them. Eden had killed for them, fought for others, had certainly done many other things for himself and those he deemed his own...when would it end? "There is so much grey in this world, dear sister. I fear becoming too much a part of it." And he already knew he had little in the way of true morality. He had thought of hurting, of being hurt, of killing and being killed. He was as grey as one might come, or so he might believe. His lips had become taut and they begged the silent question - did she not fear it too? To lose a sense of herself in the greyness of the world?