This notion of 'pack' is a decidedly new one for the fae man. His knowledge of other species distinctly lacking if only because he had never had very much to do with them at all. The courts of Italy had, for the most part, been made up entirely of humans, his own status as a Fae was hardly known by himself until he was nearly six years old. Were creatures of any kind, if they had existed amongst them, had never openly displayed themselves and in all his years of life Dorian had met only one vampire before his arrival in this city. As such, other species, remained very much outside his knowledge. That their existed, for Were's, a pack system momentarily saw a hint of inquisitiveness touch his features as she spoke of this Beta and Alpha- positions it would seem, within this unusual hierarchy that held little true meaning to the man. That both she and her husband lacked any land however was equally as alarming to the man and yet perhaps these Were packs functioned in much the same way as a Duke or Baron over minor Lords within his area, Dorian's features frowning slightly in consideration.

"You and your husband then, you live within your Alpha's household?"

It was perhaps, an unusual attempt to understand how this pack system worked. Dorian assured that 'Alpha' was on some level an indication of a higher ranking then Beta and yet in what way such things were organised he hardly knew. Did Were's perhaps live with their pack in the same fashion as an animal? Was not Samantha's lover some sort of Were-creature? The idea of it is almost distasteful to him really- yet so many ages spent assuring only those emotions he desires to allow to be visible are actually seen assures his features offer little more than a polite intrigue by way of response. It is her polite curtsey that seems to shift their conversation once more, Dorian's head nodded in response, accepting her gesture and too, seeking to alleviate her from it by allowing her to find her place upon the bench one more. His correcting her on her sentence, in the least, seeing a flush of embarrassment blossom across her cheeks, Dorian offering little more than a polite simper in an effort to alleviate her distress. She was, he is sure, a creature of nervous disposition and he sees no need to make it more so. Her question seeing the slate-hue of his gaze return to her own.

"It is, as you suggest, unusual to engage commoners in conversation and yet we are not within my palace, nor even my age and as such I think perhaps I can forgo such formalities for the sake of company- even just this once."

A soft chuckle rises easily within his throat, seeking to assure the woman he hardly minded her company. Within his own castle he would hardly have spoken to her, at least, not unless introduced and yet the rules here and different and varied and he is not opposed to speaking with a woman of intelligence as she so clearly was. Her husband, in many ways, was a lucky man. The notion of how he got here however is one he is perhaps less willing to discuss, if only for the lack of knowledge he himself had upon it.

"I have learned they are called Dark Hunters. I had the misfortune of meeting some, I ended up here when I escaped them. I plan to return to Naples though- in time."

He had, of late, found something or more correctly, someone, that afforded him a reason to stay a little longer then he intended. To Raven however, he mentions only the basis of his story, seeing little need to delve within its depths- much of such a tale hidden from even Samantha herself. His attention turned on to the name of the girl herself.

"I do not know very much about Werewolves I fear though Talbot- this one is harder. Old French perhaps, though it is also English, more specifically Norman it means 'bringer of destruction'. It is not terribly becoming for a woman to carry but it can hardly be changed. Was your ancestor known for destruction?"

The vast majority of names, after all, specifically last names, were decidedly simple in origin. Representing an area from which the individual came or in more unfortunate cases, used to identify a much disgraced family. Her final question however sees his head shake softly, assuring her no apology was needed.

"No they were not. My Mother, Isabella of Clermont, was human and my Father, Ferdinand I of Naples was also mortal. As you can perhaps perceive my parentage has always been something of a question given my immortal status. I was born Fae, I was not created as some are, though you will find no mention of that within history- my Father concealed the fact very well."

Dorian Aragona