Sleeping Dragon “I’m the B̸̧̧͓̙͖̜̥̪̝͇͕̬͒͋̋̃́̋̈́͛͠Ad̷̡̨̢̧̟̯̠̜̬͇͇̼͍̓͐̓̌͗̍̽̒̄͐̆̈́̚͠͠ GuY...Duh.”

The man sat back on his haunches, curling his tail about himself in a very certain manner. He refused to have any part of himself out of place. He looked at his cousin, nodding softly in approval. Despite the state he'd been in, he'd managed to gather a lot of information. They will be able to map it out better over time. Without getting lost, that is. His head tilted, impassive gaze watching. He was sure all who knew Earp were used to this inquisitive but often unsettling look by now.

He licked his lips, thinking. He looked beyond the young man into the darkness behind.
"I will see what I can do." He murmured. He knew what he could do.
Find a carrier for his children -- select a perfect candidate -- then as soon as they were ready, he would bring the children home. They had no need for the mother. They would look, talk and be filled by Sahiran blood.
"If we need to, we can go searching for the offspring you've made. Speed up the process. Otherwise, the Ancients will deem their worth." Easy enough. Entice the young to follow them and raise them properly.

At Priest's questions about Noave, he chuckled low as if to say shut the fuck up.
"I will not be fucking my half-sisters Priest. I will have no tainting in my offspring." The Ancients seemed hell-bent on telling them that. Making each sibling or cousin born litter deathly sick or with limbs that curled or had no paws. Broken muzzles or closed ears with broken senses.