Varanduil had never bothered trying to capture anyone for himself, and had never felt any great desire to- he stole moments, not people- but now, padding along at Cullen's hip, his heart was racing with excitement. It was a test, and that should've made him nervous, but instead he felt a swelling heave of pride in his chest that it was him Cullen was testing, him he was turning back to to murmur hushed instruction and share this strange desire of his with. So, though it was not Varanduil's own desire, he felt it thudding in his pulse as if it were, and he followed the cold, marbled gold silhouette of his leader as lightly as a cat, never straying far enough from his side to lose his body heat in the biting chill of the mountains.

When Cullen's steady trot turned wolfish and his gleaming head shifted to a trio of figures ahead, then to look back at him, Varanduil tensed with delight, his muscles surging in heaves and starts under his bronze flesh with an eagerness to pounce at his word- but with a shudder, he reined himself in and let the lead surge ahead, hanging back a moment to watch him fall upon the only adult with dazzling ferocity. He gave Cullen a moment drive her before slithering out after him, choosing the spindly, fragile figure of the bay filly to approach with a confident calm that his shuddering muscles nearly gave away as a lie. Even still, his voice was steady; soft and sweet, as he reached her and bumped her frail young flank with a gentle, soothing touch.

"Come now, dear one, you wouldn't want to get lost- is she your mother? She'll be worried if you stay behind."

Pressing at her gently but firmly with his shoulder to encourage her forward, he tilted his narrow head to catch the eye of the lanky colt from under bladed white lashes, his black eyes glittering.

"What will you do, my friend? Will you leave them now..? Or come and ensure their safety? I'm afraid you'll have to decide quickly- I cannot keep my dear leader waiting."