Drawn towards the depths of the ocean tide, the boy and his fox riddled along the shoreline, dabbling and conspiring between sand and sun. Sometimes it was a leisurely stroll, measured amongst idle hands and ardent plots, and other moments it was an exuberant chase into the waves, the prince galloping across the current with the wind in his face and savagery plucking over his flesh (yearning for something to entangle his senses, to unravel his munitions). He’d come back to the wily kitsune, and they’d kick rocks, pebbles, and shells down the length of the tropical paradise, until either eyes were distracted and deterred by something paramount; a gull screeching amidst the sea breeze, a larger wave coasting towards them, a turtle rummaging its way through the dunes. They trickled this way and that for a spell, uncertain how many hours had passed, when another abrupt movement caught their attention.
 
They instantly yielded their motions and stared towards the right, where the water rippled unnaturally, bubbling, boiling, seething like a witch’s brew. The youth’s first thoughts were of monsters or whirlpools (and Orsino cackled at this, somewhat delighted at the prospect of more demons escaping hell), and he watched, completely drawn by speculation and curiosity. When the creature finally managed to break through the water’s surface, the soldier’s head tilted, confused, befuddled, and stunned by what had managed to escape the hold of the sea. It appeared to be a combination of things above and below; its marine tail drawn away as it hoisted itself onto land, morphing, changing, altering into something more equine but still drawn from the ocean – gills and lures, shifting to life on terrain. At some point Erebos’ jaw must have dropped, because he had to flick it back into place, snorting, shaking his head, and blinking rapidly – when he turned back to where the beast had ascended, it was still there, real, tangible, and speaking to them.
 
Some had already gathered – those familiar and those strange – and a part of him intended to stray and stay towards the back, where he could watch from a distance. He didn’t know if this was another God or monster, sent from another world, intending to destroy them all…but then, he knew that even those fiends could fall, and the allure, the enticement, of curiosity bridged over his being, and he maneuvered forward. Pieces of his thoughts clicked into place, like webs, like springs, like cogs, and he had so many questions sizzling across his tongue – Orsino merely followed along, silent in his cold reverie. Erebos took several moments to glance at Alysanne and Volterra, nodding politely (as if he hadn’t battled the winged one, as if he hadn’t teased the skull man), and eventually stopped near Zero (far older than the little boy he’d once met, but unchanged in speech, in whims). A protective shackle tethered him a few yards away from the younger lad’s side, and a winsome smile embedded itself across his lips, appearing welcoming, charitable towards the stranger, while his mind contemplated a thousand different scenarios. Why was it here? What did it want? Were they doomed to participate in more battles, in more wars, in more bloodshed? Were they all to be spellbound into abhorrence and villainy? Or was this nothing, nothing at all but kindly gestures and curiosity unleashed from both sides? You know better, said Orsino, snorting through their connection. It didn't stop him though. “Welcome,” his rich voice extended, much like Alysanne’s, and then the sprig of inquiry bounded next to Zero’s investigating lines. “Why did you want to meet us?”

[Goes to stand near Zero. Asks a question.]