What nervousness had existed in her countenance did not fully dissipate even with his charming disposition. He doesn't let it disappoint him, because he can understand her nerves. It isn't easy, being so young and alone, searching for answers and appealing to those with an entire war base at their back. Standing on the outskirts of a foreign land and hoping for a friendly face. 

He can give her that, at least.

She is far too stiff and respectful for her age, and he can tell she is too nervous and upset to really mean any honorific that may fall from her lips. Cera smiles comfortingly, eyes warm and stance soft. He won't underestimate her, for a wolf can fit within any sheep's wool, but he will not doubt her either. "No need for the sir," he laughs softly, brushing away the unnecessary respectful term. 

And then she's off, words blubbering from her mouth like a fountain, and he just sits and listens. Nodding gently, patient and attentive. It must be a foal thing, he thinks fondly, recalling the lightning girl he'd found in the island range. But he can't help the soft frown that pulls at his lips at her predicament - at her tale of a missing mother, just like the other young girl. It's a ridiculous, unforgivable act of betrayal. To leave a child...

Before he can speak, the large black form approaches, and Cera gives a bewildered glance at the terse greeting. He dips his cranium in greeting nonetheless, though he returns the stiffness. Equivalent exchange, he supposes. Um...okay? he thinks dimly. Ilaria snorts, and Cera hushes her as Areli runs to greet the goliath, though he can't help but snicker softly under his breath nonetheless. 

Except unlike Volterra, Cera has seen Ilios. 

"You're looking for Ilios, right? I know he's been around, I've seen and talked to him. But I'm afraid I haven't seen him around recently," he mourned softly, frowning lightly as he tried to remember where Ilios had wandered off to. It wasn't his job to keep track of the warriors, that was actually Volterra's job. Do you expect him to do that? Ilaria cackled, and Cera hushed her a second time. She was truly the embodiment of his concealed feelings. 

He feels distinctly uncomfortable, and a little spurned, by the intimate interaction between the other two. He wants to turn and walk away, take his knowledge with him, the same bitterness from the herd meeting lingering in his breast with no real outlet. The Prince's posture is stiff as he stays off to the side, waiting for them to ask him whatever they need of him. But...why should he?

"Ilios is a warrior, so if he isn't reporting for patrols...I'm afraid I can't help unless I wander across him through sheer luck. I'm merely a Forger." Don't be so bitter, it's unattractive, and we don't appear unattractive in front of hunky stallions Ilaria huffed. Cera internally rolled his eyes. He may be hot, but he's certainly no Mercutio, Cera leered arrogantly, and Ilaria promptly dissolved into hysterical laughter. At least that was a sufficient distraction for the insatiable beast. 

With a dip of his cranium he backs up a little, refocusing on the pair before him. "Good luck with your search, Areli. If I see him, I'll let you know. I'll leave you to Volterra's capable command if you need nothing else from me." With a smile he backs up further, wings prepping to take him to the skies and back to his patrol. 

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It's fine Cera isn't really needed anyways! I'll just have him depart after they respond, and just have it be done more OOC ;D