What is it that drags you from your lands today? Nothing more fascinating than what had been behind any previous outings, he would assure. It seemed like he could be found outside of his territories far more often than he could be found inside of them. He liked the privacy that came with scaling some of the steep mountains, or the rather beautiful tranquility that accompanied a neutral forest. Sometimes others would be nearby, and more often than not those exchanges made for something mildly interesting, but he could only  be captivated by a sense of interest for so long before it was time for him to slip away again. He didn’t stay anywhere for too long - save for beneath the reign of Erenyx. Despite the reputation that his pack had given him - regardless of whether or not it was truly fitting to him - he had found a sense of contentment within the lands he served. Steele and him shared no particular similarities, and he frequently wondered if he’d ever be able to compare himself to any of his pack’s sadistic inhabitants. Most likely not. He didn’t attempt to be like anybody else for the sake of another’s appeasement. He was of no particular emotion, no particular description, nor of any particular hobby - he was simply there. The days would come and go, seasons changing with the coming of new months, and yet he remained eternally the same. He was the robot of Erenyx; perhaps more cold-blooded than any of his violent pack mates simplistically because he was void of the ability to feel.

Maybe he belonged with them more than he thought.

He trudged up the mountainside on surprisingly elegant paws, his bronze body neatly matched with the dusty brown coating of the old rocks. He had traveled this path many times, and he returned if not only for the scenery alone. It was often a quiet, resolute location. Few dared to walk the paths that his paws naturally touched out of fear for the hazards. The element of danger held a certain promise within its cracked palms: one that threatened those unable to be fluent with their steps. He had never worried about his momentum before - he may as well have been a strip of silk, or perhaps velvet, what with the nonchalance he carried himself with. It helped that, just like with everything else in this world, he held no particular quarrels against death itself. His time would come, and should it happen to be destined to befall him upon this very day, or within these next few steps, he would be accepting of how it was to be. Fate, after all, had a funny way of playing out, and it was simply not in his power to meet it with pointless questions.

An unusually similarly coloured shape was huddled against itself, tucked away into the rocks with what seemed not a care in the world for how lethal it was to be so unmindful upon these trails. He wasn’t even certain that she was aware of his nearness, but such uncertainty did little to distract him from continuing upon the path that he had originally sought. He traveled with nothing surpassed a curious eye fixed upon her form, an immense feeling of intrigue blossoming in the middle of his chest as he drew closer. She smelled of newness - new to these lands altogether? - but he failed to catch any of the similar underlinings that would have her labeled as one of his own. She was likely of Helidos, but unlike most of his fellow Erenyx wolves, such a fact didn’t bother or displease him. He held nothing against those that served the opposing Alpha; not even Steele, himself, could force such views upon him. He could be ordered to fight, but he couldn’t be ordered to dislike.

The Delta settled a small distance away from the unidentified female, making no moves or sudden noises in an attempt of capturing her attention. She would notice him when the time was right, if she was not already mildly aware of his presence - his stillness. He sat with unbelievable poise, unmoving save for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he took in slow breaths. The dark gold colouration of his eyes glimmered like gems in the sunlight, fixed on nothing other than her very being. It wasn’t uncommon to grow uncomfortable beneath the pressure of his analytical eyes. They did nothing more than search, but they searched with such precision that it appeared like they wouldn’t even miss the smallest shift in a heart’s pulse. They were intense, but he did nothing to lessen their calculative sting. “Is there a service I can be of?” He watched for the tiniest changes in movement or behavior, uncertain of whether or not she’d appreciate the offer, but he left it to hang in the air for her taking regardless. The way she lay there, so still and uncaring . . . she could very well be on her deathbed. He wasn’t one to leave someone in need of assistance with nobody there to be of it, but all in the same, he wasn’t one to insist should he be refused.

He didn’t so much as flinch under the harsh scrutinization of the female. Surely, on some level she had meant for her words to sting, but they did no such thing. Instead, the Delta continued to stare at her with his lack thereof expression, paying attention to the way that her body language softened substantially, likely feeling apologetic for having met his polite request with such an outburst. Despite the rudeness that had accompanied her first words to him, he didn’t feel any less inclined to answer the question. His entire body remained eerily immobile, unmoving save for the occasional rustle of warm wind through the tufts of multicoloured fur draping from his muscular frame. “Irrationality.” He spoke the single word, his identification, with  utter simplicity and disregard. He didn’t often find himself taken with such an exchanging of commonalities. Of course, it was often considered a necessity - so many were unable to continue a decent conversation without first acknowledging the name of their company. However, Irrationality never found that he asked for anybody’s name. If they wanted him to know, then they would tell him. Unlike so many of his fellow wolves, he didn’t normally require a name to recognize somebody’s face.

Her next words, in his opinion, were peculiar. The first part of her question required some thought, and he remained content in his relative silence as he contemplated what his answer would be. Why was it that he had offered to ‘waste his time’, as she had so blatantly stated? And, perhaps she had merely been speaking in a figurative sense, but he did not consider her bones to be broken by any means - always one to refrain from thinking outside of the box; he had a tendency to appreciate his preference for the literal. “Be it that you required actual assistance, or merely conversation, if I offer as I had then that means that I’d be more than willing to, as you say, waste my time with you.” Did she truly feel the need to question it? Perhaps his behavior - indifferent, as she said - didn’t always make for the most enjoyable company, but he was never known for being unfriendly when the circumstances didn’t require his aggression.

As far as him having a ‘potential suitor’ went . . . the idea, itself, was rather laughable. Silacea, he supposed, was the closest thing he had to something along those lines. But even so, he didn’t share the chambers in which he rested in with her, and he wouldn’t go so far as to consider her his mate. He knew how the she-wolf felt: she had taken it upon herself to enlighten him upon one of their many afternoons together. He had, very likely, made their situation far worse by failing to reconcile. He was not a male of emotions of sentimentality. He had yet to understand whether or not she’d ever be able to accept that as a part of him. If not, then their relationship was destined for nothing more than its demise. “I don’t have a significant other,” He dismissed the thought from his mind as quickly as it had managed to surface. At this time, he wasn’t interested in such things. “So, yes, that would make you wrong. I have no desire to share my life with another. I find it quite amusing that you can assume such things of me.” He had never seen himself as the type to have another individual in his life - more importantly, he couldn’t see himself having the potential to be a good father. Therefore, the thought of someone else being able to see him fulfilling the role had managed to catch him off guard. He didn’t understand what about himself had led her to assume so. But, just like in all situations that proved of some interest, he didn’t have it within himself to inquire any further. “Surely one so despondent must have a source of light found only within their potential suitor, am I wrong?"