Just because he had to go didn’t mean he had to go quickly. His large form moved at a slow yet steady pace making her wait on him more often than not if she wished to keep him in sight. He moved as if his joints ached and his feet were sore, his head hanging lower than most with a hitch in his step that suggested a limp or some other old injury bothering him. It was a ruse, a lie which he lived every day to the outside world to ensure that it viewed him as old and feeble, weak and of little use. He wondered if it had worked on this one as he comes to a shaky stop as they apparently reach whatever their destination was. Of course he recognized Glorall if only form word of mouth, Iromar had long been his home of choice where he hermited himself away until the dark usurper had deracinated it root and stem. His thoughts had often been on Pine and what had become of his adopted child, much as his tooth had always been sharp with her he still took care of his own little flea. She had gone and gotten herself into a mess it seemed though, and he had to bide his time until he could do anything for her.

His vibrant eyes cut to the dark girl he had followed, although decidedly less interested in her that she was in him it would seem his mind was still sharp enough to know that knowledge could flow both ways in a conversation. With much ado he lowered his hind end to the ground, cringing as if the movement bothered him until he was settled once more still holding the shimmering gaze of his would be keeper. “And there is a reason you had to drag me across the countryside to talk?” His voice is deep and gravelly, course but not lacking in the cutting inflection it had always carried.