Stavanger Bay Gone with the wind

The other walked closer, leaving just enough space to keep things comfortable—something the Greek appreciated more than he'd realized. His answer had the elder momentarily stunned, but relief slowly started to flood his system. The boy once lived there, meaning he'd been a bay wolf before the pack had departed from the land. Perhaps he even held the answer to the question that had been nagging at him ever since the bypass fell to ruins. "You were a bay wolf, then?" he began, needing to confirm it before getting his hopes up too high. "When you lived here, did you know someone named Aesop?" Maybe the older man had left with his pack, maybe his location could be given.

Before getting too far ahead of himself, Alastor was reminded of his manners. If the younger could provide some sort of insight that might ease his mind, then the least he could do was be courteous. "My name is Alastor. I knew someone who lived here once, but it seems you all have moved away." He did not know if they were still one whole as a pack, or if they'd split off onto individual paths. The prior sounded more appealing to him, if only because that might increase his chances of seeing his friend again.