Avery had her own frustrations to handle, and Apollyon had ventured out of Iromar and towards Spirane, or so Ruby had assumed. There had been several summoning calls from the mountain, after all. In any case, it left Ruby quite unable to follow up on any of the conversations she felt she had to have. So, she had returned to the grottos. It was there that she had met Hepzibah and Sorath, and it had been there that she had become acquainted with the idea that there were still Angels that hunted her kin. If there was anywhere they would go, she figured they would follow Hepzibah's scent to the grotto. In the early hours of the evening, Ruby had resolved to investigate the grotto and keep a watchful eye over Iromar from a new vantage point. It was, at least, a good way to keep herself occupied lest she fall into stasis.

She'd become quite adept at navigating the grotto. Even in the dark, Ruby moved with surprisingly quietness and grace, her dark fur lending to her ability to become just another shadow. There were many scents and the stillness of the night made them all the more obvious, yet none in particular stood out as completely foreign. That was, until one struck her as odd. When she found it in the breeze, she paused, a paw mid-step as her tail gave a flick. There was something vaguely familiar about the scent, but it was strange and foreign enough to make her hackles twitch. For whatever reason, the scent made her cautious, yet she pushed through her instincts in order to follow it. At least, she deduced, it wasn't an outsider-Angel seeking blood. If she recognised at least some part of it, then she must have encountered the wolf before. It was the space between all of that knowledge that made her cautious. If she had encountered their scent before, why couldn't she remember them completely?

It took her some time to follow the scent, but eventually she found its epicentre. Somewhere in the dark, he was nearby. "You," Ruby called out into the night, though she did not pause to say it. Instead, she kept slowly on the move, ensuring she'd not be an easy target if his intentions were not as benign as her own. "I know your scent, but not you. What do you have to do with Iromar?" Her voice was tepid, but one might have been able to hear the furrow of her brows and the twitch of her lip, as if she wanted to say more.