Elohim had, after so long away, returned to Glorall on the heels of spring. He had seen, perhaps, seen better days, or at least easier winters. He'd lost enough weight and gained enough muscle during his winter away that he felt strangely self-concious as he jogged through the territory, as if he wore a shape that suited neither himself or the Glorall itself. He'd been chiseled by the harsh winter abroad, and yet despite his uncertainty, he felt drawn to the water's edge. Perhaps, he thought idly, the salt and sand would bring his Glorall blood to the surface again. At least, he might be able to breathe in enough of it to feel more at home than the bare-trunked trees and worn paths made him feel. He smirked, ever amused by the nature of his own thoughts.

In any case, he hadn't been planning for company. He'd assumed he'd be alone for at least a while, yet he had started to doubt that. He'd started up one of the dunes, its peak concealing the beachfront below and yet he'd paused just moments before he might have hit that very peak. On the other side, he could hear movement, the distinct sound of paws as they crunched through sand and shell. Had they heard him? Elohim waited with bated breath, his paw still mid-air, mid-stride as his ears slowly leaned forward, trying to decipher anything familiar from sound alone. Occasisonally, one might be able to identify a wolf by their stride, or guess their weight from the sound of their paws in the sand alone. Yet, this time, he seemed out of luck. If he knew the wolf, he'd not known them well enough or recently enough to be familiar with such subtle, unseen clues. It made him sigh, then bite down on his teeth - he'd given himself away, hadn't he?

He waited, but he felt like a fool just standing there. If he'd been found out, then it'd be obvious that he was avoiding them - hiding from them - and where was any pride or distinction in that? Begrudgingly, he accepted the fact that he'd been too caught up in his own thoughts to think ahead, and so, he had to pay the price of that: companionship, or something like it at least.

So he rose to the peak, though he made no effort to hold himself with any dignity or rank. Instead, he merely appeared like a shadow atop the sand, a lame wave of his tail all there was to his greeitng. Of course, such display of apahy could barely last long: Natiya was there, just below him, only feet away. Now, Elohim was not ashamed to admit that it caught him off guard. His head immediately jerked to a tilt, his eyes fast finding hers, his face caught between furrowed brows and pleasant surprise. Curiosity, and suspicion. Truly, she had a way of doing that, it seemed. His brother, Enoch, had always talked about Natiya's voice, the little lark that she were, and he'd always found her enchanting in a strange, distant way. Natiya was both herself and not, and Elohim had been sensible enough to avoid her for the most part because of it. If one let themselves get too involved with a wolf like that, they'd get lost in being both themselves and somebody else just like she had. And Elohim had never wanted to be anybody else, after all.

Still, she was there, and he'd been staring at her for too long, trying to decide which expression she ought to elicit. He settled on curious, and once settled, he moved downslope towards her. "Natiya, he said, a greeting and half of a question. His eyes moved from her to the paws, and then to where they had been - dainty, gentle little marks in the sand behind her leading to the waterlogged crossing. "Truly?" He asked, his eyes having found the island behind her, only returning to her after he smirked and shook his head in awe. His question had been clear enough, he thought. Had she truly been on the island, and that she really was Natiya?