Witch's Marsh Born With the Fate of Dying For Someone

For Outrider trade, maybe? c: Doesn't have to be, though.

Since having both the Beta and Senator title placed upon him, the Greek had not left the territory. Instead, he'd worked to honor the titles, to make sure his leader would not regret bestowing the upon him. He'd worked on his hunting skills and even greeted a wolf at the borders who'd been looking to join. It still felt odd to him, but he'd slowly started to get use to it. Growing use to and comfortable with being promoted had become something similar to an acquired taste. It didn't seem entirely right at first, but over the passing of days, he'd gotten settled in to it, and started focusing his attention on what he could do to better and help out the pack. One thing kept popping up, repeating in his mind over and over again like a broken record, and that was the need for new members. The boy had said he would work towards the Outrider trade, and while that meant being a diplomat, it also meant going out and recruiting wolves with potential to join the pack. He had not departed right away despite this, however, because he'd wished to momentarily pin all of his attention on what was happening within the pack with the current members. Finally, though, after nearly the hundredth time of his thoughts reminding him, the young Greek left the Bypass.

Alastor had started off by taking a path that had grown rather familiar to him, but instead of continuing on down the path he'd taken to reach the ridge once before, he went somewhere else. His legs stopped him before he could reach the wetlands, landing him in a place he would probably someday learn to be called Witch's Marsh. As he entered the strange land, he was uncertain of how he felt about it at first, but after a bit deemed it safe to go through. The boy did his best to walk only on the most solid parts of the ground he could find, not wanting to sink into the water and risk messing up the golden dye on his forelimbs. Eventually, it would be inevitable, he could tell, but as long as he could prevent it he would work to do so.

The argent wolf was not too sure just what type of wolves, or other creatures, he would find within the strange terrain, but surely there would be someone he could attempt to recruit. He hoped so, anyways. There was never a guarantee to such things, but Alastor did not focus on that. Instead, he was optimistic about it. If he couldn't come across someone in the marsh, then he would continue on to somewhere else and try again. He would repeat the process numerous times, most likely, or at least until he was able to return to the Bypass with at least a possibility in mind. For now, however, he needn't worry about that. The boy didn't know what was in store for him, so while he'd already planned ahead of different scenarios, he also told himself to simply live in the now and let himself be surprised. Who knew what an unfamiliar bit of land could bring out.