Her tune altered and changed, transpired through the taut tension, and his brow arched in questioning expanse, alternating between perplexed and amused by her morphing. Had he done something to sway her away from the curt tones, had he done something to swindle her from the ashen ties of rancor and bitterness? Essetia and her wolf suddenly wanted, yearned, wished for reprieves and diversions, as though a cloak of moroseness had been shed, lifted, torn, laid out to rest in its vitriol and friction, and he openly stared for a few moments, pondering over what to do and what to say. If he were a more petulant infidel, he could have refused and relinquished her – for all her reprimands, for all her lectures, for all the acrimony and antipathy his one little bellow and earned him. He may have torn off into the swell of evening and left her with naught more than a pitiful memory, days spent mourning the loss of her whims and caprices. A little Machiavellian piece of him, sheltered and shadowed deep in the fathoms of the tiny beast, stoked and unfurled, nearly laughed and waltzed in carnivore delight (because hadn’t he managed to influence her, even if just a smidgen?), and the ample portions of him, remaining good and just and gallant, thought she deserved some token of happiness for realizing the error of her rebuking ways, rewarding her for recognizing her mistakes. He heaved a molten sigh, perhaps expressing the great, grand undertaking he’d soon be facing, straightening so the prince-like crown was rendered noble and dignified, granting her his sovereign gestures and impish favors. “I like to wander into the caves, sometimes. See if there are any undiscovered treasures.” The colt’s voice crackled like kindled fire, brewing and simmering below the surface, but never delving too far, never embarking into unfurling, unwinding flames. He didn’t tell her of the time he felt swallowed by the massive expanse of cavern and ignorance, small and fragile and weak in its unhinged, silent bellow. He didn't mention he sometimes returned to their halls and walls to ensure he no longer felt so frightened of their power and the lapse in his. “Racing across the glaciers is fun…” The vocals ran off as he stared into the distance, at the set of the sun, at the summits and valleys that would eventually call him home. Was there something an adult and a wolf would like, cherish for days to come? Erebos was entertained by simplistic venues, chasing the wind, laughing with his friends, launching crusade after crusade, exploring the depths of some unknown world, conspiring to exploit more venues and adventures. He didn’t know what she’d seen or heard, she had more years on him, more experience, more wisdom, but he certainly had more ease at the excitement to be had and held. The tiny cretin smiled for a moment, chiseling some devilish delight at his next thought, sent it pulsing back towards the femme with little forethought except dabbling in arts and enchantments, invocations and sorcery. “And practicing magic!” Segmenting his vocals away from the abrupt exuberance, he carefully chimed and cajoled back into the stately scion, extending the favor to her – to Essetia and Romul – to hasten what they sought. “What do you want to do?”


@[Essetia]