Hannibal had spent a short amount of time with his fanged daughter since arriving. He had managed to pluck some sort of information from her about her time without him. The pain of knowing she had been trapped and injured seriously ripped at his already swollen heart. Never could he imagine a way to make up anything or any time to his children. Overall the pale beast knew that the best way to rekindle any sort of ties with them would be space and time. Hannibal was not a father to push himself upon his offspring in hopes of their love. If they wished to hate them so be it but while he was home he would do everything to support them. If his spawn needed training, food, a shoulder to cry on, or someone to vent to he would be there. But, he was not going to beg for forgiveness. The male was never one to do so unless it came to his lovely Empress. Banshee had informed the former Emperor of a new healer named Iolaire. Apparently this femme was the little sister of their very own Warlord. He never knew the former slave had any siblings but then again he did not know much about the fanged creature. Hannibal desired to meet this newcomer and have her suss out his leg. Normally he would have Lucerita do it but this gave him a prime excuse to speak with this stranger. Thus, Hannibal sat at the edge of the lake and let forth a strong howl that was just loud enough to reach the surrounding lands in search for the woman in question. ""

Iolaire's presence had been exceedingly popular as of late. Yet another call rang out, requesting her presence and the minuscule woman rolled her green and gold eyes in exasperation. Yes, she was a healer, but would it ever end? If this was just another social call... The dark fae's pelt bristled slightly. She gave her little frame a shake and began to make her way in the direction that the summons had come from. Since her run in with the pack of coyotes, the dainty fae had been making herself scarce. The wounds upon her muzzle were healed, but she would forever have a small, moon shaped scar upon her lower lip where a tooth had ripped deeply. It didn't bother her too much. In fact, she thought it was kind of charming. Had the rest of her face been scarred, however... she wouldn't have been able to carry on with her duties as the Armada's ambassador. Coming upon the Oasis,  the diminutive dame's multi-hued gaze fell upon the form of a black and white brute. He looked oddly familiar, but she knew that she'd never met him before. Padding forward, the small woman's sultry, accented tones closed the distance between them. "You summoned me?"

Hannibal was unaware of how busy anyone in the pack was. He knew there was a lot to do but when he had left Ashen there were few Wolves besides himself actually pulling any weight. Expectations were rarely meet within his eyes due to the way he was raised. The lazy demeanor of many around him was sickening but as of now he had no right to comment. Until he recovered from his injury fully and was able to contribute to his full potential he would lay low. Observation would be needed in the coming month. Hannibal was naturally protective of his family and those that surrounded them. Which was why he called upon the ambassador in hopes of getting to know her. Soon enough the small form of Iolaire came into view. Shamelessly the beasts gaze swept across her freshly scarred features and tiny bodice. He could not help but to note she shared non of the same markings the Warlord had but that led to no evidence of a lack of blood relation. The babe carried a strong scent of Sirius, Belle, and herbs. A leather satchel was strung across her shoulder as well. After a short assessment the femme let forth feminine tones in which he consumed. He toned seemed rush but held no ill will. The distinct lack of formality and manners was noted but not taken as a slight. Surely someone had mentioned him to her but he doubted Io knew who he was. Nor did he go around demanding respect at first glance. Well, he use to and would in the future. But the male was walking on thin ice at the moment. One tattered and one full ear flicked in response as he raised a paw to gesture to the ground beside him. "Sit if you would." A short demand for her comfort. This was not some sort of dreadful interrogation unless she desired it to be. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Hannibal Iber Klein, Daimyo of Ashen." A slippery and very natural smirk swept across his malicious lips. "My daughter, Banshee, told me about you and how you have managed to obtain rank within the Armada. She also mentioned your background of healing." Hannibal raised his injured leg where she could see the very fresh scarring upon his humorous where it had obviously taken quite the blow. "I seek something to take the pain away. It was broken and is healing but still very bothersome." ""

Green and gold eyes looked the man over. He didn't seem injured, but he was also sitting and she wasn't able to make a proper judgement. She didn't know who he was, only that he looked familiar. Had she known who he was, her disposition wouldn't have changed much. Titles were naught but words. Actions bred respect. The man patted the ground beside him, offering Iolaire a seat. Rather than place herself beside a wolf that she didn't know, the woman's small haunches folded where she stood. She sat across from him, a healthy distance away, but close enough that they could converse comfortably. Being so small, one had to be wary of strange wolves, lest she end up with another face full of bite marks. The brute introduced himself and Iolaire recognized the name. Deathbelle had mentioned him, but that was all she had done. Aside from that single conversation, she'd heard nothing of the man. Still, she accepted his name with a nod. He'd given his title and so she would give her own. "Iolaire Akeldama: Ambassador of the Ashen Armada." She claimed no relation to the alpha in her naming of titles because she didn't need to. This title was her own. Hannibal went on to speak of Banshee and their conversation together. The small woman nodded again. "Banshee was correct. I am indeed a healer, among other things." An injury was offered up for her inspection and Iolaire rose, moving forward. First she smelled the wound for any signs of rot. There were none which was a good sign. "I need to touch it to make sure that it's healing properly." If it wasn't, the leg would need to be broken again and set in the proper place. As she waited for him to give permission to prod the injury, the minuscule fae nosed into her pack, pulling out a bit of white willow bark for the pain as well as a few herbs that would address inflammation. She placed them before the pink-hued man and waited. Speech

Caution radiated from the small babe's monochromatic form. Hauntingly pale eyes poured into he dazzling emeralds. It was rare a Wolf in Ashen was not of blood or of close relation. Hannibal was so horribly comfortable in the confines of his family's territory that having someone of rank feel so foreign was an odd sensation. Affection and free speech would not happen so naturally with an outsider. Such was proven as Io decided against his request and sat a polite distance away. Hannibal would have been pained by the display but a sense of understanding washed over him. It was evident that he was not dealing with some vixen like his ex-mate. Io seemed to have boundaries and the albino would patiently respect them. As the title was given the regal ghoul dipped his head down in a gracious bow. Ambassador. It was an interesting rank for a healer but it was likely due to having additional skills. As Hannibal's head raised more baritone vocals fell from eager jaws, "Tis' truly an honor, Iolaire Akeldama." Repeating the name as she had spoken it to engrave it into his mind. Connecting her face to the name and vice versa. A habit the beast had formed from a young age while meeting many diplomats and important Wolves. Attention turned to the injured limb. Eyes flicked down to his limb then to the gal as she moved closer. When she went in for a sniff he raised the leg slightly to make it easier. A nod was given in response to her explanation. "Do as you please." Hannibal placed his paw on the earth lightly and remained still so she could inspect the injury as needed. The northern native who had nursed him to good health had done a good job and the break was healing fine. But, due to his travels he had put too much wear and tear on it. With time it was sure to heal but the pain was still rather bothersome. Hannibal glanced down to the herbs before him and raised a brow, "What is that mixture?" A pointed question to discover each ingredient. With Riva's help he had found out he was allergic to coconut. In the off chance Io had it mixed in somewhere he'd want to be hesitant about consuming the herbs. ""

The mans sincere words as he spoke her name brought one silver brow arching upwards. A soft chuckle rumbled up from the small lady's chest and she spoke as she began to inspect his leg. "You don't need to butter me up, Hannibal. I'm quite informal, even with your sister." As he placed the injured limb before her, the woman began to manipulate the limb, gauging its range of motion, its resistance and its over all strength. The dark woman continued to speak as she worked. "I appreciate being candid more than masks and pleasantries." A slight shrug was given. "If that's the way you naturally are, however, then carry on." She was simply letting him know that he didn't have to pretend if he didn't want to. Settling back, the diminutive woman was within much closer range this time. She could smell the deep maleness of him and she quite appreciated the scent. It had been a long time since she'd even been around a male other than her brother, let alone had sex with one. Alas, she'd already caused enough tension by sleeping with Deathbelle. Pity. Having placed a few items in front of the man, he questioned what they were. Iolaire appreciated that. Most simply just ate what was offered and that was that. "White willow bark for pain," she pointed to one bit. "You eat that separately." Pulling out a small stone dish from her pack, the dame began mashing the other items together with a smear of honey to help it go down. "Turmeric, ginger, green tea and thyme to help with inflammation. The honey makes it taste better and has healing properties of its own." Having sufficiently mashed the concoction together, Io slid the bowl forward to sit before the man. He could ingest it at his leisure. Her job complete for the time being, the dainty wolf slid forelegs outward to lay upon her stomach. A thick, foxlike tail curled around one slender hip. "No doubt your family will be glad to have you back. There are quite a few that could benefit from your presence. Not to mention it will be nice to add to the male pool. Swimming in women, let me tell you." Amusement sent those two-toned eyes glittering. Would he engage in friendly banter or would he abstain? They were learning one another with each word spoken.

Careful paws maneuvered his injured limb. There was not much pain as it moved. A few twinges here and there but nothing to remark upon. The most of the pain came when he walked on it for some time. Pressure being applied from an uneven step was the worst of it. Pale optics were pointed downward as she worked but his ears flicked at the sound of her feminine vocals. Io took the beast by surprise as she voiced the desire for candidness and less formalities. She made the male wonder if he was truly putting on a show. Of course he did not know her well enough to be completely himself but Hannibal was always laced with a silver tongue. Buttering up beautiful babes was what he did. Thus, a playful grin danced across pink lips as his eyes flicked upward to her own visage. "I promise you this, Iolaire..." A sly tilt of the head. "You do not want to see what is beneath the mask." A pastime of kidnapping, violence, endless lust, and hatred swirled beneath blue and pink eyes. Hannibal was a mere shell of the demon he once was. The closeness of their forms brought forth a heat within his normally icy veins. Hannibal hadn't delved into the joys of pleasure since before the eruption. Segar was his last love and male was no where to be found. Circe and Dutch were also missing. As of now he only had eyes for Deathbelle but she was always just out of his grasp. If Hannibal had it his way he'd devote himself fully to his sister and toss aside any other desires to be with just her. The Empress was the painting of perfection within his mind. But, she likely would never feel the same for him. This meant he would likely seek passion elsewhere as he always did. After an explanation of the herbs and a proper smashing the male leaned forward to sniff at the lightly. Hannibal was always so hesitant when consuming foreign concoctions after his severe allergic reaction to a sunscreen. But, after only a moment he consumed both mixtures separately. A greedy tongue slipped across ivory teeth to ensure he got all of it. As he was done swallowing down the bits he witnessed the small woman settle down in a laying position. Hannibal's fierce gaze seemed to rake against her shamelessly before he too moved to lay down, careful to not bother his sore leg too much. Long and stretch with a raised head and flicking tail the albino took in her speech. A small chuckle came from the depths of his throat as the babe concluded. There was always a heavy imbalance with Kleins. Females outnumbered the males more often then not but he could not complain much. "I can't say I am too bothered." A grin. "Though, the females in my family can be thick with personality." Some easier to get along with then others. "You mentioned my sister earlier..." A pause. "Are you close with her?" Hannibal would be glad to hear his dear Empress had a friend with everything that was happening. ""

The mans response to her mask comment brought her green and gold gaze up to meet his own odd eyes. An amused grin tugged at the corners of the woman's dark maw. "Darling, if you knew about my upbringing you wouldn't worry about dropping that mask. There is no horror that I haven't seen." It was true. Her father had been a demon. He was a nightmare to his kingdom. Any perverse depravity that the mind could conjure, she'd witnessed, been a part of, or had run from. She was probably one of the few wolves that could see and understand such acts. That being said, she continued. "Your leg has healed well. You'll be back to one hundred percent in no time. Just keep off of it as much as you can. No strenuous activity." She felt like a broken record. She'd told Sirius the same so many times now... Having sprawled comfortably upon the sandy earth, Iolaire shrugged out of her heavy pack. She nosed into the pack before pushing it away and placed a chunk of dried oxen before Hannibal. "Best to eat with herbs lest they upset your stomach." The honey would help with that, but she was a bit hungry, so why not sup together? The small woman held her chunk of dried meat between dainty paws and tore off a strip, which she promptly consumed. Obsidian ears flicked forward, catching each syllable that the man uttered. Even his voice was pleasing. He wasn't bothered by being surrounded by females. Well, neither was she. He admitted that the Kleins were stubborn, basically and Io nodded in acceptance. "I can see that." Though Deathbelle was a kitten around her, she could imagine the woman being quite stubborn when necessary. Hannibal then asked if she was close with his sister and Io couldn't help the flash of pristine white teeth as she grinned. "You could say that. We're very good friends." With a chuckle and one silver brow arched, she asked in return, "Are you quite close with your sister?" The implied meaning was very obvious. With how much he poured sexuality forth, she imagined that he might very well have some sexual attraction to his sibling. She wouldn't judge. Iolaire saw nothing wrong with it.

In response to his warning the babe continued on to explain that not much could scare her. It was true Hannibal was not the darkest of demons. Hamiclar, Han's father, had been far worse with his sociopathic ways and desire to do anything for power. Many said due to his melanism and cold demeanor he was an actual demon. Even beyond that there was much worse in the world. Those with chaos and pure evil eating at their mind. The pale ghoul could not compare to most but if he lived his complete truth he'd have quite a bit more scars and much more enemies. Pondering what Io had said sparked thought of the fae's past. What had she seen that was so horrible? "Most that have seen the true evil in this world would not be able to speak of it so leisurely." Most are weak. Hannibal raised a brow, "Perhaps you are stronger then one may suspect." A small babe with a satchel did not come off as inherently strong. But, what was within the greyscale femme would seem to be a swirling mix of strength and confidence. The albino's eyes seemed to dance with slight admiration but nothing overbearing. He still did not know Io fully and after dealing with a many lying vixens he was hesitant. Their conversation shifted back towards the situation at hand. After a full inspection the gal gave him the green light that his leg would heal just fine. But, it came with a warning of caution. A slipper pink tongue ran across his top row of ivory fangs before pink lips curled into a sickening smirk. "No strenuous activity..." A pause. "How will I survive?" Fluttering white lashes danced against a pink and blue gaze as he playfully eyed the small babe. Hannibal's voice was dripping with inky sarcasm. Heat scorched his chest as the topic of their conversation continued towards his dear sister, Deathbelle. An image of her monochromatic bodice filled his mind before moving his full attention towards the gal before him. Her scent did smell havy of his sister's own and with the way she had answered his question it clued him in on that maybe she and Belle were a bit closer then he had first thought. Cheeks burned ever so slightly as the fur on the back of his neck raised. His tail stopped the playful flicking for a moment as he thought it over. With the absence of Archon he would only assume the Empress would move on but the fact that he wasn't there to catch he when she fell pained him so. Belle had said she wished to remain faithful to Archon until the pups were born and then perhaps they could move on with their relationship. To think that a newcomer had had the pleasure of enjoying the Empress' passion before himself caused anger to rise within him. But, all of these thoughts were built off of suspicion. The flurry of emotion that moved over his form was clear to see. Hannibal was not one to contain his irritation at this point. Perhaps once he was a smooth serpentine but now his face read clear that he was not pleased. "My sister had just given birth before I ventured north." And heavily wrapped around Archon's massive claw. Venom was heavily weaved into each vocal but it was clear he held no ill will for Io. It was not her fault that he had been gone or Belle had her desires. He was more upset with himself then anything. He could also not blame Belle for she had thought he was gone for good. If he had a pretty little gal make herself known to him he'd do the same. I'd done the same time and time again. Visibly the ghoul calmed but he was still slightly rigid with a coiling sneer. "It pains me to say we are not close enough." His eyes were full of annoyance. "Deathbelle is my one true desire in this forsaken world and yet she slips from my grasp time and time again." Haunting eyes ravaged her emerald pools, "Do you hold feelings for my sister?" Perhaps the question was a shot in the dark but perhaps with him opening his heart she would consider doing the same. ""

Onyx ears flicked forward to catch each syllable uttered by the partially pale man.  He spoke of strength and the small woman gave a casual shrug.  "You're strong or you're a victim. " That was the way of the world. Though she may not be physically strong due to her diminutive stature, Iolaire believed that she was a mental powerhouse. The woman was world-wise, clever and witty. That was her strength and,  in that department,  she was miles ahead of most.  Hannibal joked about being indisposed due to his leg and the small dame chuckled in response.  "Oh,  I'm sure you'll manage. You'll just have to get creative to keep yourself entertained." Green and gold eyes soaked with mirth. "Perhaps you'll do a better job of it than my brother.  He's been miserable with his broken leg." Sirius had indeed been a royal pain in her tail.  He had refused to stay off of the leg,  resulting in not only a longer healing time,  but a strain in another leg as well. The man threw tantrums like a child about his leg,  but she loved him anyway.  As the conversation shifted to their darling Deathbelle, the instant change in demeanor was noted.  The shift was quite interesting to Iolaire. Did he truly feel that strongly for his half sister? Rather than pull back from the brutes irritated visage, Io merely arched a brow and made a noise of interest. She didn't speak,  she simply waited for him to process his emotions and continue,  which he eventually did.  He spoke of Belle's birth and of not being there to catch her when she needed it. He spoke of Deathbelle being his one true desire and something clicked within the tiny fae. Perhaps... this could be exactly what was needed.  The man's return was fortuitous and maybe fate was at work.  Hannibal then asked if she had feelings for his sister and Iolaire would be honest as she had always been.  "Yes." The dainty lass stared the brute straight in his mismatched eyes,  showing that she held no shame.  No regrets. Only truth.  "I met Belle when she was a broken thing.  She needed me and something within me needed her. We became friends.  Lovers." Iolaire looked back on the beginning of her affair with the Empress. It had been easy from the beginning. The pair worked so well together that it hadn't taken much effort to heal Belle's broken heart.  Iolaire continued,  giving the man more information. Perhaps she was giving him a hint as well; a key to Deathbelle. "Though we're lovers,  we both know that it won't last forever.  We're not each others end game,  so to speak. Belle needs a mate;  a consort.  Someone to share the burdens of rule. Someone to help continue her line of succession." Eyes still blazing into his own,  she left unspoken, 'that could be you.'

It was true. If one was not strong the forsaken world they lived in would devour them whole. Hannibal had once encountered weakness and found himself in a pit of unfathomable depression. A depression that never fully left him but would be rarely seen by others. Only Belle would see such a hidden side of him. He was thankful for those that had pulled him from that horrible hole but he had never been able to completely heal. Perhaps with time his pieces would be put back into place and patched up but for the time being he would merely swallow his pain for the sake of his family and pack. Iolaire expose the truth about her relationship with Sirius. Banshee had explained that Seer had broken a leg but she hadn't explained any further beyond that. This brought forth a curious brow raised from the alabaster heathen. He wasn't aware that Io and Sirius were siblings. Of course he could only assume she was talking about the fanged beast as he was unaware of any other male's in the pack that had broken legs. "Surely I will find something to fill my time with." Pestering his children for starters or gossiping with one of his siblings. "Are you blood related to Sirius?" Maybe it was a blunt and slightly rude question but he could only imagine she wouldn't mind much. Io was so small and Seer was massive. It was hard to imagine them coming from the same litter. The answer to his pointed question came with ease. A blunt 'yes' was spoken from her slim jaws. Hannibal did not feel pain this time. The first wave of emotion that came with the knowledge of their relationship was enough. The beast was now neutral with that familiar quirk of the lips in play. He did not blame the babe, Deathbelle was an alluring female with power and beauty. Anyone would easily fall within her perfumed webs and lost in her strong gaze. Jealously was still itching at him but it was not as horrendous as before. Hannibal consumed the neutral vocals Io offered to him. He was appreciative of her honestly most of all. Dishonestly was one way to get right under his scar infested pink skin. What came next filled the serpent with slight shock. He was partially expecting Io to lay claim to the Empress. But, to say that they were aware that Belle would eventually need more. Io's verbiage was pointed and her eyes burned into his own. Is she referring to me? - Beautiful paintings of Hannibal and Deathbelle watching over the pack lands filled his mind. A relationship built off of love and strength. Devotion to the Klein name and the next generation to come. A certain worry filled him as he thought of their past. Could either of them be tied to only one? No one compares to her. Pale eyes danced with thought and emotion as he observed the Empress' Mistress. "Will you be okay?" To see one's lover delve into a relationship with another so blatantly would be unimaginably painful, that is if they ever get that far. Would Io be able to watch that happen? ""

He spoke if finding something to fill his time with and her first thought was that she hoped he would fill that time with wooing Deathbelle. They needed it. Ashen needed it. Oddly enough, Iolaire also needed it. She had done her duty by the woman and now it was time for her to fly. Clipped wings had been regrown. She was whole and she was capable of love once more. That was what the tiny woman wanted above all. Belle needed to find love. Hannibal asked after her relationship with Sirius and the little healer laughed aloud, eyes closing momentarily with the action. "Gods, no. We've adopted one another. He never had siblings and I lost mine..." the smile faded considerably, but didn't fully disappear. It had been so long ago. "I lost mine a long time ago," she finished. Canting her head slightly, she shot a mischievous look in the mans direction. "Would it surprise you though to know that my mother is almost as large as Sirius? My father larger?" The womans snow dipped tail lashed back and forth behind her. The grin returned. "I was a complete fluke." When the conversation shifted to her relationship with Deathbelle, he still seemed bothered, but seemed to appreciate her honesty. That was good. She also appreciated honesty. It was the quickest way to gain her trust. Honesty wasn't always kind and it showed faith that one would choose to be unkind to refuse a lie. She watched the various emotions flit over his features and again said nothing until he was ready to speak again. Finally choosing to speak, Hannibal surprised her. He asked after her own well being. They had just met. He had no need to be concerned about her welfare. The surprise had to have shown upon her normally controlled features for she felt brows lower that she hadn't remembered raising. "Again," she spoke, her voice a bit softer than before. "You're strong, or you're a victim." Giving up a lover willingly to another wouldn't even come close to being the worst of her relationships. Compared to her last... this was a walk in the park. "You needn't worry about me," she assured him. And he needn't. No one ever needed to worry about her. The woman was emotionally self sufficient. She would feel the loss of Deathbelle, but the good would outweigh the bad. Some might see that as uncaring, but she was anything but. "You should find her soon. Her heart is healed and I believe she's ready and able to be loved again." She stared hard at the man. "I will never stop loving Deathbelle, but her happiness is paramount. Our relationship will change, but we will very much continue to be in each others lives." One obsidian ear flicked and the hardness in her gaze lightened. "Rather than lovers, we will be the closest of friends." Would he be able to watch that, knowing what they had been?

Supple notes of laughter fading into Io's gentle voice filled the air. A breeze washed over them as he consumed the tidbits of knowledge she exposed. He was right to think Sirius and Iolaire were not blood related. They shared no markings and their size was completely off. But, as she continued the babe informed him of the fact that she did come from the seed of giants. Hannibal's brow raised as he looked her over. Honestly, he could not imagine her being the daughter of Wolves larger then even himself let alone almost to the point of Dire. "Aren't we all?" The pale ghoul grinned, "My father was fully melanistic and my mother a grey Wolf." Albinism was a strong trait of his ancestors but most thought it would fade away due to his father's melanism. "And yet me and most of my siblings are all riddled with the albinism our ancestors bred so deeply into." Hannibal raised a brow, "Perhaps you have a tiny ancestor." A chuckle came forth, ending with a shake of his head. Hannibal watched her thought process and the rare emotion swim behind her emerald eyes. Conflicting ideals filled his immoral mind. The severely selfish side of the beast desired nothing more then to pounce at the chance of having the Empress to himself. But, the caring side of the male didn't desire to hurt anyone. If Io was truly someone Belle loved then he did not want to make her feel anymore pain then needed. Though, with all of this moral banter he had to think over the fact that Io had presented these ideas on a silver platter. Hinting at the future Hannibal and Deathbelle could have and excluding herself. Why is she so ready to rid herself of the Empress? His mind swam and his heart thumped. Thoughts were muffled as her feminine tones filled his ears once again. The healer went on about the mending of Belle's heart. He couldn't help but to appreciate that she had done that much. The health and well being of the Empress was above all and it seemed that Io had the same mindset. To sacrifice their relationship to allow Belle to dive into a new one took a strong Wolf. "If it is a friendship you desire I would never be so cruel to come between such." He could watch them be friends and enjoy one another's company. But, if he were to devote himself to Belle completely he'd expect the same from her. If there was any funny business he wouldn't be pleased but he'd rather have the truth then them go behind his back. This was all of course if Belle gave him the light of day. "Answer this..." A raised brow. "Why are you so ready to move on?" Hannibal would never let go if he had what she did. ""

Ears flicked forward, listening as Hannibal told her of his own family lineage. A melanistic father and a grey mother bred a two-toned beast like himself. Genetics were definitely interesting things. "Melanism runs in my family as well." Albinism, however... nope. Her whole family was dark. Her uncle was a giant, midnight beast that many thought of as a nightmare. He was a nightmare, but not because of his looks. Just like her father, her uncle was a lecherous beast and there was no end to his depravity. Hannibal admitted that he wouldn't keep her and Deathbelle apart and she accepted his admission with a nod of affirmation. It was good that he wouldn't try. He would have succeeded.  If her presence bothered him enough that it would put a wedge between himself and Belle, then Iolaire would remove herself entirely from the picture. The future of Ashen was more important. The question was then asked... why was she so eager to give up her lover. Iolaire was silent for a long while, brows knitting together until she had prepared an answer. And then she spoke. "I was tasked with healing Deathbelle. I have done so. Now is the optimum time to end our tryst. Her heart is whole and you've come into the picture with claims of devotion towards her. From what she has mentioned of you, those feelings might very well be reciprocated." With a sigh, the woman shook her head, suddenly looking tired. "Each day that we pass together, it becomes harder to think of us being apart. I know she feels the same." Iolaire rose, shaking out her lush tri-toned pelt to rid it of clinging debris. She slid her pack over a slender neck, shooting the brute one final look. "I cannot give her pups. I cannot fight beside her. I could never give her all of me." No one would ever have that from her again. "For the future of Ashen, Belle needs to find a consort, be it you or another." The tiny lass turned and began walking off back towards the temporary hole that she called home. "Take care, Hannibal. Don't hold back." -Exit Io unless stopped-