The Dauntless stood still and quiet, eyes watching the pool. He had acknowledged the Storyteller in her own right, and now he waiting for the God of these lands to appear before them. He was not for certain in the Father Earth would make himself known or seen today, but he hoped. He had been present before when a call went unanswered and it only spread frustration and despair within the herd. In the aftermath of the Riftian battles, the gods were needed. Archibald had met with the Moon Goddess, sought answers to her tyranny, and was left with nothing. Even she, in this time, was a necessary evil that Helovia would need to embrace. The Dauntless sighed, a quiet sigh meant for no one's ears.

Macaria stepped through the underbrush and caught his attention. He lifted his head some, golden eyes falling on her beauty. A small smile tugged on the edges of his pale lips as she closed the distance between them, placing a small kiss to his shoulder. She looked so much like her mother and it made his heart ache. Her body was growing into the curvature of womanhood, and Archibald wanted only to wrap her up and keep her forever. The thought of a man looking upon her lustfully made his stomach turn and his heart turn to fire. No one in this world was good enough for her. He returned her kiss, running his pale maw up her crest and gently nipping her poll. She was growing so tall, the Dauntless expected her to nearly reach her brothers. Gold eyes met gold and he nodded to her, motioning towards the pool that Isopia tended. "Just wait," he whispered.

With promise, the earth trembled with the Earth God's coming. He manifested before them, a vigil of strength and wisdom. Their patron was one of the few in Helovia who stood taller than the Dauntless, an impressive feat. "Father Earth," Archibald greeted when the patron rumbled his name, followed by his daughter's. Archibald's typically cold face was as stoic as usual, the warmth of Macaria's approach hidden behind a stoney face. This was a time for business, and he knew that to be true of Isopia's thoughts as well as she went on to seek her father's guidance. As he watched the Storyteller unfold her questions, a yearning tugged at Archibald's chest. He wished for his own children to seek their wisdom from him. He glanced to his daughter out of the corner of his eye, thinking of her brothers before her. He had not seen the boys in some time. He knew Reginald to be a member of the Dragon's Throat, but Abraham's location was unknown to him. The black son had always been the more free of the two, the ailment that gripped Reginald so tightly keeping him closer to Circe than his wombmate in their foalhood.

Looking back to the patron, the Dauntless waited. He had his own questions to ask him, but it was Isopia's role to have the god's first attentions.