Silvertip Mountain When Snows Arrive

/Casually tosses in a gloomy bum because why not

An off-feeling had settled into the pit of the male’s stomach, though he wasn’t yet sure what it meant. He was certain it was not an illness, or at least not one of your “standard” colds. It was, however, something he’d felt before, but couldn’t quite place a claw on exactly when and where he’d felt it. Either way, it made him uncertain, driving him to consider heading off on a long trip around Teekon. A part of him wanted to, even urged him to, but something continued to hold him back. He’d made a promise to teach June, and though they hadn’t met since then, he wasn’t going to take off and break his word. That one bit was the only thing keeping him from straying too far away. No matter how often the urge to explore hit him, he refrained from falling victim to its persuasions—for now, anyways.

Alastor was lingering along the edges of the pack’s territory, icy eyes glancing out in the direction of the sea every once in awhile. Since his arrival at the mountain, he’d yet to seek out the Bay, but something told him he wouldn’t have had much luck even if he’d tried. Little to no movement had been seen as far as he could tell, leading him to believe that the pack had either relocated, or was no longer around. Both options saddened him, sending him into a bit of a slump. It was times like that in which the itch to travel grew especially difficult to scratch, but not impossibly so. He was in the process of fighting with himself when a howl sounded throughout the mountain, accompanied by another that seemed to mix with it, and then responded to by one much shorter. His own voice did not rise, but he did answer the call by forcing himself to head in the direction from which it’d originated. He was mildly disinterested in the reasoning behind the pack being called together, finding that his mind was elsewhere. Though he entered the area where the others waited, his thoughts were miles away, hidden within the sky—that is, until his gaze found the family stationed at the front of things. It was then that he understood the feeling in his stomach, knowing it to be his own loneliness, combined, perhaps, with homesickness. It’d been a long while since he was in Greece, but despite that, he didn’t miss it any less.

The Greek approached the others quietly, expression somber rather than enthusiastic. He was not good at faking what he felt, never had been and perhaps never would be, but he did try. He gave a nod of greeting to all before settling himself down on his haunches, waiting to hear the reason they were called together. It didn’t seem to be urgent, but the way things seemed were not always how they truly were. So, he kept himself silent while waiting, working to drag his mind back down from the clouds above.