Neither child wished to travel with him and, as disappointed as it made him, he could understand why; they had been left to their own devices, more or less, whilst growing up, and he knew how little of an attachment could form under such circumstances. Hell, was he not an example of it himself? It was due to different issues in life, to a point, but the outcome appeared to be the same; they were not identical, however, and for this he was glad. As terrible as he had a tendancy to be, Alexander would not wish anything of negative origins on any of his children, or their cousins.

The trek to the western border was a relatively quick one, as he’d already been part of the way there. Yet, the nearer he got, the slower he became. Was this something he was actually going to do? Was he going to allow his remaining child to stay behind, on her own, for an undetermined amount of time? Honestly, yes. Despite the sudden, and unusual, feeling up upset at the thought of leaving Nunataq there with the pack, he’d made up his mind about leaving. He couldn’t sit around any longer and wallow in self-pity, he had to get out into the world and actually do something to fix it—to fix the life he’d broken, the mistakes he’d made.

He had to find his place in the world again.

With a sigh, he turned his muzzle back towards the hollow and let out a howl, alerting those dwelling within to his departure. Even before the last echo of the song died out, Alexander was gone from their land.