As it was, his place in the world alternated between walking the borders and guarding the stones. He favoured the Mother Stone most of all, knowing that his late wife was buried there; he often spent his time talking to her, catching her up on all that had happened since she’d passed away and reliving memories when one came up. He enjoyed it there, perhaps even more so than he did patrolling the land. In a way, it provided him with some sense of closure—even brought him some peace—knowing that he could come and speak with her whenever he so pleased. Those moments were always spent alone, though: just him, the stones, and whatever spirits may linger—so, in that sense, perhaps he was not entirely alone, not always. Beyond those of an otherworldly realm, however, he was alone—until he wasn’t.

Kove paused mid-sentence when he heard the soft patter of a child’s steps, and was surprised to discover that it was the only set. Was there no one else there? Pushing himself up from the ground, he rounded the stone and caught sight of the child, discovering that it was little West. Concerned, he strolled towards the boy, asking, “West? Where is your mother?”

The child seemed surprised to see him, to say the least—or, perhaps, it was more disappointment over having been seen than simply surprise. He suspected the latter of the possibilities as he stumbled over his words, and his suspicions were confirmed the moment the boy lied; unluckily for young West, his grandfather had spent much of his life perfecting the art of reading others, essentially turning him into a living, breathing lie detector. But, luckily for him, Kove wasn’t against a little bit of adventuring. In fact, he had been quite the wanderer in his youth—a troublemaker, too, some relatives might add. So, he might as well play along.

“No, it’s fine. I can speak to her when she catches up,” he responded with a slow shake of his head. “Was she bringing you to the stones today to learn about them?” Honestly, he was curious to see how far the kid would go with his lie. It was amusing to the old man, not that his facial features expressed that in any way; he harboured a look of curiosity now, no longer expressing his concern after being assured that Valette was, undoubtedly, just a short distance off (it was hard not to chuckle about that).

The children had already learned of the stones, it seemed, which wasn’t all too surprising. The stones were such a vital part of the pack, it would have been strange had they not already learned of them. But, in the same breath, young West exposed himself further for his grandfather to test him—just how deep into the lie would he go?

“I suppose you wouldn’t like to hear about them again, then,” he stated. “It’s a good thing they aren’t far from you, then. I guess your mother will be here sooner than I thought. Perhaps she’ll be able to tell me what stories you haven’t heard.” Kove looked past him then, as if he were expecting Valette to appear at any moment now. Would the child continue to play along?

He had to admit, the kid was better at keeping up with the lie than Kove had expected him to be. He briefly wondered how Valette would think about him essentially encouraging such behaviour from her son—only to decide that it couldn’t possibly do too much harm. “I’m sure it is,” he agreed, then paused a moment later. “Ah, your mother does not know that I am here. Maybe we should meet her in the middle so she does not worry.” Although the elder’s mischief was thrilling, he could not help but feel guilty. After all, he was no different during his own youth. He could not even remember all of the times that he had wandered away from various family members in order to fuel his own desire for adventure. And then West admitted to having possibly run ahead, and the Inuk couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you run ahead or did you leave your mother behind entirely?” he asked, a knowing smile gracing his lips. In the end, his guilt won out over the thrill and he had to come clean.

The child sunk to the ground and the Inuk’s brow furrowed with a mixture of confusion and worry. Would it truly be that bad, should his parents find out? When he thought back to his own youth, he could not recall any of his own punishments being so terrible that they inspired such a reaction. But this was not the north and West was not growing up in that type of environment. Perhaps, in these southern lands, this sort of reaction was more common than not. Luckily for the boy, Kove was still very much stuck in the ways of his homeland.

“I won’t tell them,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “When I was your age, I used to wander away often. Any time an adult took their eyes off me, it was an opportunity for a new adventure.” He couldn’t tell on him for being just like his grandfather—his own relatives would surely roll in their graves at the mere thought of him doing so, knowing well just how bad Kove had been as a child.

As the child rose, Kove felt a wave of relief wash over him; he truly had not meant to worry the boy and certainly didn’t expect such a reaction. But it seemed that, for now, that was in the past as the topic of conversation shifted to something lighter. The elder smiled fondly at his grandson as he nodded, having seen so many different places that he knew not the exact number anymore (he blamed his aging mind for that).

“I have travelled through lands far from here, both to the north and the south. So far north that the wolves there did not speak this language,” he explained, reminiscing. “I’ve seen forests and oceans, mountains and glaciers… there is so much out there to see.” And, honestly, he missed it. He missed being able to go where he pleased when he pleased. He missed travelling and seeing new territories, meeting strangers that he might never cross paths again beyond that initial encounter. Had he the opportunity, he would gladly go back to the days of his youth and experience it all, all over again.

“Do you want to explore, too?” he asked, equally curious as he was hopeful. Perhaps he could come to an agreement with the boy’s mother, allowing them to do some exploring together. Although it would be nothing like the grand ventures he once partook in, it would be something, at least.

The notion of exploration interested him, just as it once did the elder; honestly, he still felt a longing in his chest when he thought of all the sights out there to bear witness to, all of the lands that he would never cross through again. But something held the child back—his mother’s wishes. Kove was glad he held Valette’s wishes in such high regards but he was equally saddened by it. He had to remind himself that these lands were different from those in the north, that the dangers that lurked in the shadows here were greater than anything imaginable.

He could understand why the young mother was against her children straying.

“The good thing about exploring, is that you always return home after you’ve seen someplace new,” Kove explained. “You return home and tell your family about where you went and what you saw.” To share the experience with others was not as great as experiencing it firsthand but it was a key point of every journey. The times that he did not return, or when he returned with no one to share his stories with, were always the saddest. “We can ask her together and see if she will let me show you a new land,” was his offer, hopeful as ever. If promised to travel with another, would his mother still be against it?

The second the child started wiggling, Kove chuckled. He was an excitable boy, it seemed, and the elder hoped he might never lose that special spark. For the time being, however, he nodded his head and said, “We won’t know until we ask her.” Whether Valette said yes or no, at least they took the time to speak with her about it. It was the effort that mattered most of all. So, with that, he motioned for the boy to follow as they started back towards the matriarch, question in tow.