Cool eyes follow movement as the young wolf makes her way up the rubble, the ease with which her youthful muscles move quite apparent. Nimble and quick movements from one her size might have impressed, or even concerned a more impressionable wolf, but there was no such individual present. The dark wolf merely watches with a stare as impassive as ever. Her desire to meet him head on aligns with his own; who knows how much longer he might have willfully followed and kept pace, so out of place were his actions. With no desire whatsoever to crowd her space, or allow her into his own, he remains below the rubble looking up at her. Still there is nothing familiar about this wolf and yet a moment happens when she narrows her eyes to look him up and down. What the moment is exactly, Eros cannot say. He does not know what nor who he looks at, nor what it all could have meant but it is all gone as quickly as it had come. His tortured mind could not recall enough to have picked up on the resemblance between his brother and this stranger. The dark wolf is non the wiser on the current situation, if it could even be called one, and so it did not make him uncomfortable. Not yet, anyway.

The smirk the young wolf gives him is almost enough to rile up his flight response, but somehow the remarks that follow ease his tension. It’s not any sort of usual greeting, and perhaps that was the culprit to his soothed nerves, though truly Eros did not have the capacity to differentiate between normal and not. There had never been a sense of normal or usual in his world, besides the familiarities he felt in the shadows. There and only there had been his usual, his entire existence, and as he continues to stand before and look up at the younger wolf he is finding himself more and more outside of his small bubble. She speaks almost to herself but also to him, all the while addressing him with a fire toned gaze. There is more she does not say and it lingers in those blazing fires but only for a moment. The question matches the curiosity in tone and expectancy, and though she doesn’t demand information there is an underlying sense of authority to her words.

Some unknown force urges his paws forward as she traverses the rubble above, keeping his path parallel to her own while remaining below. It seemed such a simple question and yet any given answer was not simple enough. When it truly came down to it, Eros hardly knew who Eros was but he was slowly beginning to learn and uncover more of that. Perhaps the best way really was the simplest way, without any thoughts to dwell upon. Simple, and to the point. I am Eros. Simple words they were, and yet to him it seemed the entire world shifted on its axis in response to such a claim. Expectations led him to brace for resistance, but within he felt nothing. For so very long he had been unable to make his own reality, and the silence he found inside was deafening. Sore had never been able to take who he was from him, but the fact that she seemed gone was both astounding and unnerving. Long, long ago Achlys had told him it had been Eden who named him so. He had held on to that and never gave up his grip, no matter what had happened. One of the only memories of a father from a different time, a different life.

Who are you? Where did you come from? If he had been an expressive wolf, he might have worn a rather surprised look then. He had meant for this all to be simple and yet, simple seemed to be the furthest thing from the truth. He didn’t know where this curiosity stemmed from, only that it was there and did well to serve as a distraction. As it were, glacial eyes stare impassively, oblivious to the overindulgence his words might have come across as. Some might find it ill mannered to ask such things of a stranger, particularly a young one, without rhyme or reason but manners weren’t something Eros really knew about. Maneuvering around a rock in his path, he side steps the obstacle before continuing to keep pace with the younger wolf above. Long ago I came from by the sea. All these words were far different than what he had offered Ren, and still he did not know the hand fate had played him and what it could mean; where any of this was coming from.

He could not know that this strangers presence struck a chord in him, one of familial ties and a life that might have been. Living so detached and unknown to himself and others leaves him unable to recognize such feelings and revelations.