Truthfully, Elohim had some suspicions on how Zelda might answer his questions - or rather, the questions his father had made him think up. She'd undoubtedly be neutral...thoughtful but neutral, careful with her words. She'd likely claim the future wasn't entirely theirs to decide. Elohim had a hunch she'd choose her words well, inching in just enough of her true thoughts to plant the seed without the listener knowing. Well, that's what he thought at least. Elohim had certainly been wrong before, but Zelda had been a captivating presence. He couldn't help but like to imagine he had garnered some understanding about her, even if it had just been, say, a toe's worth of her nature.

"By all means, Dexter, I believe I'd quite enjoy an audience with you too," he said despite his thoughts of Zelda. After all, it was true enough. Dexter was older than Elohim, though he did not show it so much but it was easy enough to deduce: a relative of Zelda but not a brother, nor a son, and Elohim could not recall any of Zelda's siblings who might have given her nephews. An older cousin perhaps, or an uncle. In any case, Elohim expected those extra years might give him a different perspective to his optimistic queen. "And with that, your insight is just as valuable, perhaps even more so. Queens and kings choose their words, but it is often those spoken without fear of stepping on toes that mean the most." He gave a shrug, but his face was kind enough. He, of course, meant nothing of offense to Zelda - but it was true, and surely Dexter knew it too. Even those second in command did not need to be as careful with their words as a king. Elohim had always enjoyed the opinions of those on the bottom.

"Shall we - how do you say? - walk and talk?" His brow flicked up, and he gave his legs a quick stretch. Along the border, perhaps? Or maybe Dexter would do him an honor and show him some path through Taviora that he'd yet to know? Or maybe he'd gotten it wrong entirely - perhaps a walk wouldn't be welcome at all. Maybe it was more up to Dexter's standards to keep border-walkers at the borders where they belonged, where their eyes couldn't pry or their noses sniff out any changes. Elohim could understand that too, so he'd not blame the man if that were the case.

But he was eager to get his teeth into the meat of why he'd come, so he didn't wait long before he met Dexter's eyes once more and spoke. "I mentioned the future. I'm to speak with each of Moladion's packs to learn of what kind of future they want here - or rather, what kind of leader they might desire to see rise up one day." It did feel like a silly question to ask, for he was sure every alpha might say 'a peaceful leader' but peaceful was less a trait, less a wolf's nature, than it was a symptom of their actions. Cunnings? Commanding? Insular, perhaps? New blood, old blood, blood mixed through betrothals or pacts? Quiet packs, packs with open borders...He had to wonder if Moladion wanted change, or if they'd prefer familiarity.