Silvertip Mountain A change of pace

Time ticked by, the world continued to revolve around the sun and the air was ever flowing, but the male remained still. The only visible movement able to be seen was the steady rise and fall of his back as he took each breath. To remain that way for so long was not a new state for him, nor would it be his last time showcasing such a calm demeanor. Alastor was, in his natural state, a very calm and well-mannered wolf. Keeping still and speaking with a soft voice came easy to him, for those were key methods to avoiding conflict and keeping the other party amiable. It was something of a specialty of his, but one that he had been born with, rather than something he'd worked to achieve—an ascribed trait, if you will. It was also a time in which he found himself to be the most relaxed, for he was left without a single worry. Thus, to keep himself like that for as long as it took was no big deal, and was actually something he was more than happy to do.

Eventually, it seemed his words had been given the chance to sink in and be accepted, granting the male the opportunity to be looked upon by his pack mate. His initial reaction to seeing her head lift was to give an appreciative smile, but it was quick to fall away. In its place there was a look of worry, the gleam of unshed tears having been noticed. "Are you alright?" he questioned, his own eyes giving her a quick once-over to ensure she was not injured. He even drew in a deep breath, but there was nothing to find. Physically, she was unharmed, leading him to assume that whatever caused her tears was emotional—or, perhaps, mental. There then came words of thanks, accompanied by a soft smile. Though he wished to return the gesture, he found himself unable to do so. The concerned expression would not vacate his facial features, even after attempting to rid himself of it several times. Alastor could not help but feel worried over the emotions of the woman, despite his lack of familiarity with her.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the male asked, unable to think of what he might be able to accomplish in his mission to ease her of whatever burden she possessed. He did not possess any magical properties, nor was he a god of any sort, thereby preventing him from washing away any negative memories present in her mind. He could not rid her of any past experiences that may have left her scarred or wounded, and he couldn't very well heal that which was not present on the outside. There was little he could do, aside from provide moral support, but even that was not so easily done when the one in need of it was somewhat of a loner, metaphorically speaking.