Sleepy Fox Hollow Oh, I'm burning out

Though he possessed no connections to the other male, he was glad to hear the other was good, too. It was always nice meeting someone who was not in low spirits, after all. Realizing that, he felt a twinge of guilt go out to those he'd met and conversed with after the disbanding of the Bypass. Surely, he'd not been very good company at that time, and for that he was apologetic. Inwardly, anyways. On his exterior, there remained a smile, and a relaxed sort of posture. His nerves had died down almost instantly after his initial fright, which he was thankful for. Those same nerves returned, however, as the words continued from the pale one's mouth. The introduction was not the cause, but the mention of a pack. Would it be worth joining? Would it last? He was a social being, at heart, so the idea of a pack was rather enticing, but he was still hesitant.

Shoving such thoughts to the depths of his mind, he returned his focus to FitzDutiful. "My name is Alastor," he returned, then, deciding to take things one at a time. Giving his name was the easy part, but confronting the other topic felt odd to him. Though he hadn't really been looking for the past few months, due to his previous state of sheer mopiness, the idea of joining a pack wasn't something he disliked. Alastor wanted to be apart of something again. "What is the name of the pack you're out scoping for?" the Greek questioned, having crossed his bridge of worries, landing him smack dab in the center of his own curiosities. He didn't want to doubt the structure of the pack, so he focused his mind on the time he'd spent in Noctisardor, the good times. For awhile, the argent wolf had been reluctant to admit it, but he truly did long for that feeling again. The same feeling that came with sharing a set land with a group of others, of forming familial bonds with those same wolves. It was something that just seemed natural to him.