Arturio was admittedly hopeful there would not be war. If anything, he might hope to stand toe to toe with Blackthorne without drawing anyone else into the fray. Sadly, the white male found that unlikely, and that is what had brought him here. It would have been easier if he had come to Spirane under the flag of Asteraia, but it was not meant to be. Maybe the gods were cruel, or maybe others simply had a stronger claim. Whatever the case, he was still here now trying to do the right thing.
Nymeria's quiet word caught his attention though. A single word that meant a great number of things. It also made sense to what the nameless woman had said. Arturio did not know as much of Asteraia's or even Moladion's history as he would like, but this made him wonder about how little he actually knew about the wolves who roamed the lands. He had met creatures like Blackthorne in the past, but never a cannibal. What kind of wolf did that? Of all the dark things in the world, that stirred him strangely in his core. One at for food, but to eat for food out of your own species was strangely disconcerting. Seeing the Bewilderbeast's body language, slight as it was, he would not press.
Instead, he listened as she spoke again, tilting his head curiously. The description seemed to fit almost perfectly as he recalled the general appearance of the wolf who now reigned Asteraia.