In the early morning, the seams between the sky and the ocean seemed to disappear. Ocean, mist and clouds blended into one, an expanse of pale greyness that swallowed up the shoreline and reached out into the great beyond. The ocean was quiet, the waves small and the wind but a whisper. Elohim had found himself a place on the edge of that seamlessness to rest, or at least appear as such. Elohim doubted he'd ever truly rest.

He thought about Ehiyeh, and what it was that she might be doing. Where had she gone, and had she found peace there? Erebos had gone once before, and he hadn't found peace. Elohim knew that, at least. Was that all that lay out in the lands beyond Moladion? Or had his bloodline found themselves cursed somewhere along the way? Everything they grew to want remained just out of reach, and the things they did not wish for found them instead. He huffed, wondering what would find him next.

He had not expected the answer to come so soon or so literally. In fact, he had never expected an answer at all and yet, instinct drove him to turn a single ear to the territory at his back. He could feel the familiar tingling of skin and fur, the precursor to what was often eyes watching. He remained calm and poised though, his eyes intent on the fog and mist in front of him though his ears and nose went to work. Who had come seeking him at such an hour?

Then suddenly, he felt teeth grasp the fur of his tail. Immediately, he rose to his paws, though his assailant had released their grip near insantly. He hissed beneah his breath, cursing both himself and whoever had come for him. Typically, he might have simply ignored it, if not simply to teach a lesson but he was a leader now. He had to respond.

He immediately looked down, though his body curved in such a way that he might fling himself out of harm's reach if needed. Instead, he was not met with harm - he was met by the word's of a younger girl, one he assumed was on the cusp of adulthood herself. Immediately, in the stillness of the air, he could smell her origins: Asteraia.

"I ought to bite you back, he said dryly, though he spoke his Latin to hide his words lest she take them too seriously. Asteraian wolves, after all, had never been known for heir humour. Then again, he hadn' exactly found them inhospitable either. They'd been tolerent of him, and had certainly made him curious about the truth surrounding them. Had hey gotten curious in return?

"You intrude, and you bite the tail of a king," he quipped back with a flick of his tail, his brows raised, "why is this so? His head tilted, but he did not wait long to give her the answer she had come for. She might have intruded, after all, but he could not blame her. All he could do was discern why, and then find out what that meant for Glorall and for Asteraia.

"I gaze the horizon because there is nothing out there: just mist, just grey. So, I can gaze out and imagine answers that may not be true, but they will at least keep a wandering mind from wandering too far," he said with a half-shrug, but his eyes watched her carefully. He wondered what kind of answer she might have expected, or if his answer would mean much to her at all. Astearia was a place shrouded in is own mists of mystery, and her accent gave her away as somebody not like the usual pack wolves. This girl, he deduced, had meaning to Asteraia.