Dragoncrest Cliffs Swept out of sight, rolling up on an ocean.

Ephraim understood that tone, but reeled back all the same, taken aback by its issue from a mouth so young. Not like he was one to talk; prior to losing both himself and his self esteem in the storm, Ephraim could be defensive himself. Then he was more self-serving and sought any opportunity to avoid doing anything. He still had that laziness to him, and a defiant streak that made him prone to growing defensive as well, but both traits were easily masked. Maybe as the wolves of Drageda became more familiar and commonplace to him, they would begin to show once more.

"Okay," he conceded, even though he thought the snail's trail on the ground was more telling of Dacio's intentions. He had no will to argue it with the younger pup; in fact, he didn't have the energy to ask again. He let the grey-furred boy get near enough to smell him instead, and when asked who he was, he simply said, "Ephraim. Ay-yol-ver," he pronounced slowly, because it had taken him such a long time to be able to say his own surname without botching it or tripping over himself. He glanced down between his toes to the slick, gummy trail and he wondered, "Who are you? Are you followin' the shell-crawler? Can I come?"

He really had no concept that Dacio was a bit young to be out this far nor that he should try to escort the pup home.