Stavanger Bay Gone with the wind

The was a part of him that considered the worst of fates to had befallen his friend, for it seemed more believable than the elder departing without reason. For someone who longed to explore and see all the sights he could, perhaps he should have understood that some wolves just wished to wander and touch the farthest reaches of land possible for them. However, he didn't want to believe, or even think, that the same calling had claimed Aesop. The male had seemed like a devoted individual, loyal to his pack and those within it. Alastor just didn't want to think that those thinks could be so easily left behind by him—that the Greek himself could just be left behind.

Alastor listened as he was told of why the pack had left, and found the reasoning to be understandable. For smaller packs, merging with another could often prove to be more beneficial for all parties involved. While he'd never experienced a merger first hand, or even truly heard of one going underway until then, he could see why they'd chosen to do so. "Your brother must really care for all of you," he noted a bit absentmindedly, then chased the thought from his mind. "The new location... where might it be?" Curiosity forced him to ask, though whether or not he'd ever journey to see it for himself was debatable. There were still many areas closer to his current home that he'd yet to see, and felt it important he knock those off the list before traveling greater distances.

There was a sliver of hope struck into the male's chest then, and his tail sway slightly without him realizing it. "If you ever come across his scent, would you mind letting me know?" There was no guarentee the cream-coloured man would return, but to have that safety net in place just in case kept the argent boy's mood from spiraling downward into a dark abyss. "I live near here, on Silvertip Mountain. Even if it's just a quick howl as you're passing by, I would appreciate it immensely."