Most days, Alexander wandered. He did not know this land and had a hard time deciding whether or not he truly cared enough to take the time to discover it in full; at the end of the day, he was there only because it was where his family had gone and he, wanting not to repeat his childhood, stayed for them. Whether or not he was actually wanted was a matter to be discussed but, clearly, not one that he put much thought into on his own time. He knew he was not well liked, he knew he’d done some things that he could not take back, but he still wanted to remain there, if only to watch his children grow from afar. If that was all he could be given then, perhaps, he could be happy with just that alone.

Though the sound of steady footfalls told him that, that might not need to be the case. As Xan slowed, he swung his head to the side to glance over his shoulder, the sight bringing him to a full stop and encouraging him to turn. He faced his daughter with a look of curiosity, wondering what she was doing—and then who might be with her, which he confirmed to be no one after glancing past her. Somewhat satisfied by this, he closed whatever distance she had yet to and, with a friendly wave of his tail—a foreign action to him, really—aimed to try and touch his muzzle to her forehead in greeting.

His touch did not linger, though that wasn’t something he was particularly bothered by; whilst his own father was keen on holding the contact, Alexander was indifferent. When his daughter stepped back he did not approach again, keeping what space she’d put between them there. As per usual, she said nothing—it reminded him of her mother and how, as much as he hated to admit it, he missed the silence; everyone else was always so quick to speak with words and words alone, whereas he’d always sought the silence. Such was a trait that he’d tried to change, once upon a time, but those days were long gone and he found himself more at ease now.

For a moment longer he observed his daughter, his eyes trailing from one part of her to the next, taking note of just how much she’d grown. With what appeared to be a smile, he tossed his head as he motioned for her to follow whilst he turned and began trotting off.

Alexander had no set destination in mind—or, rather, he wasn’t yet ready to journey out to the places he wished for her to see. So he walked, steadily guiding her away from prying eyes whilst remaining within the territory. And as he walked, games passed through his mind, things taught to him by his own father, and his father before him, having been passed through the generations. Although, perhaps, he should have engaged her mind with one of those many ways to pass the time, he settled for what he knew best and his movements slowed. With little to no warning, the albino turned and struck out, intending to land a gentle nip on her shoulder, tail wagging; the motion struck him as odd but he tried to consciously maintain it, not wanting to give the impression that she was in trouble.

To be met with bared teeth was to be expected; he had suddenly turned on her, after all. Had she not reacted in that way, he might have thought there to be something wrong, that she was too trusting—something he’d learned long ago that they could not be, not if they wanted to survive. So, rather than mirroring her actions, he continued to wave his tail up over his back and snorted, urging her to engage. Unconvinced that, that might be enough, he attempted to nip at her front paws—gently—furthering his attempt at encouraging her to wrestle.

She did not engage, much to his surprise. He stopped where he was and watched her retreating form, head slightly cocked, as he wondered what was wrong with her. She seemed to be just fine on a physical level, so what was the issue? A low growl of frustration smothered itself within his throat as he continued to observe her, now at a loss. What was he supposed to do with her, if not play a game? What did fathers do with their children?

Huffing, he did the only other thing he could think to do—which was to approach and plop down in front of her, ever so watchful; he recalled his own father often watching after him, so he figured he might as well give that a shot—even if it was incredibly boring to do.

As she got up and relocated yet again, his gaze trailed after her and his ears perked. He remained still at first, his observing of her being continued from afar, until he caught her peering back. With a low, barely audible huff, Alexander rose from his place and moved towards her once again, settling the same distance away as previously.

Sitting down, he stared back at his daughter and remained just as silent. Now what? his eyes seemed to ask as he, too, thought intently of what her next move may be.