It would have been easy to describe Elohim as a fool, and he would not have faulted anybody who labeled him as such. After all, they were not too far from being correct. Elohim approached where he should have shrunk back, and spoke when he should have stayed quiet. He had been born with a distinct inability to resist his curiosity, and a distinct ability to find trouble. Some might have called those troubles 'opportunity,' though. Renja Azmiron, the stranger that she was, could have been any of those things and he would have still found himself speaking to her in the company of the shadows. Renja Azmiron, the half-ghost of the Grotto. He smirked to himself. Of course, he'd been found by a half-ghost.

He met her eyes, unable to look away. As unique as they were, he could not help but see pieces of Achlys and Eros in them. Cold, pale, so like theirs. He found his heart in his throat. Did he let the fear control him? Elohim chuckled, an admission in itself. In a way, he supposed so. Had his fear of finding a ghost not lead him towards the Grotto? It was just a different kind of control.

"I let it guide me," he called back to her. "It is just so that it often leads me to it. The world has its humors, no?" He had been following something the day he had encountered Eros, but it had not been Eros. He had been following Eros, but he had found her instead. If he followed her, he wondered what he'd find.

He shifted then, and poured himself down the stones so that he might stand level with her. He wanted to meet her eyes on an equal field, and that he did. From ther, they were just as haunting as they had been from above. At least, he figured, he could feel her better there amongst the darkness.

"You're no Moladion-wolf, are you?" He could not help himself. His head jerked to a tilt, and he bit down on his teeth. He ought to hold his tongue, no? But to him, she did not feel like any Moladion wolf. What had lured her there, and then from there to the Grottos?