I have not visited Iromar in many years but I do remember the shock of feeling its unique loam even now; I see a similar surprise in Avery, though perhaps she is not nearly as appalled as I was. In fact, she seems pleasantly surprised, a fact I cannot help but smirk inwardly about - what a difference, after all. I was young when I visited Iromar with Solaris, and new things were harder to accept. Perhaps I had been so reluctant to view the moors simply because of such limited experiences, a shameful thing really. I do not covet the land and its strangeness but I feel frustration at realizing I permit the past to dictate me now so easily. Perhaps it'll change though for Avery, at least, seems more amiable than the former leaders. With her atop its ranks, I may very well be more inclined to tiptoe its borders.

She raises a valid point, one all too easy to forget - I give her a grin, pleasantly surprised myself to be corrected. Each succession was perhaps even bloodier than the usual way of our kind; we seldom, after all, kill during a scuffle for dominance, no? Yet, Iromar seemed to require it. Avery seems acutely aware of it, and I do her the pleasantry of looking away - as if distracted but for a moment - as she tenses, though for what reason I cannot say entirely. Perhaps she truly did foster something for Andras, something enough to feel his absence even now. It is my turn to flinch - a flick of my ear, my lip tensing back for a moment - when she mentions, though not by name, Aranck. It brings about...something strange of a feeling: what part of Moteuh was he truly guilty of? Killing her in name, maiming her in body or failing to kill her wholly? If he had at least succeeded, I would not have had to find Asriel in the grotto with that...thing, that body, that resembled her so clearly. I shake my head, though I do my best to act as if it were merely a fly but it is a difficult thought to shake off entirely.

At least, Avery is a wolf of many words. Right now, that is a valuable trait to have - she speaks and commands my attention, thus I can almost feel the thought of Moteuh slip away into the breeze. I compose myself, barely a hitch in my stride, as I roll my shoulder and smoothen my features into something less...complicated. "I am sure you have many of your own...eyes and ears. As a show of support for your rule, however, I would be happy to assist with filling in any of the blanks you may have regarding the state of Moladion." It is smart, after all, to get your words in first at times, and to secure the border with Glorall and Iromar with such easy words would be...most beneficial. Besides, what kind of information she might desire is telling too, isn't it? Perhaps she will want to know about the alphas themselves, or perhaps she would rather know about what others say about them: that kind of want is telling.

The scent of salt is strong now and with a small pause, I am quick to lead her up to the peak of the dunes. It is harder than one might expect, trudging through sand as it does its best to send you back down, but it does not take long until we reach the top. The slope down is gentle and the tide is high, its waves slow and lazy as they lap at the driftwood. I take in a deep breath, my lip peeling up into an amused grin as I turn to watch her with much curiosity - it is the scent, I think, that often catches many off guard. Few anticipate just how much a too deep breath can burn you from within with so much sea-salt in the air. "Before Glorall was Glorall, it was a place named Litherum - or say, many used to say. But it is wholly something else now. Iromar, I think, is like that too - or perhaps, it will be. Even if much has changed, it only makes way for you to continue the process." I give a shrug before I look out over the water and towards some of the small rocky islets in the distance. Litherum was a pack, a story from my childhood, and now it is but a sunken place. Glorall only exists through that change, and through its first founder driving that change onward. How different it might have been if a wolf too stuck in history had returned to find its shores and declared it as Litherum. "Consider Glorall a friend of Iromar. Perhaps we will be fortunate to change the way in which Iromar finds itself new leaders; put an end to those violent interludes, and keep the borders a place of peace rather than ghosts like Aranck and Blackthorne." It is the first time, I think, to declare such a 'friendship' so blatantly but...it feels essential, for now at least. By doing so, perhaps Asriel can find some kind of solace, and I must admit the idea of no longer being so watchful over the west will be a blessing of sorts. Perhaps I will finally be able to look forward rather than over my shoulder, hm?