Whitebark Stream The world at my feet

A stretch. A jaunt. That was all it had meant to be, yet now the silver wolf found himself further from the pack lands than originally intended. Still--a sharp cry was given to @Mahler and the others to inform them of his intent to explore nearby areas and he could only hope they had heard him.

The heat of the sun caused his muzzle to wrinkle lightly in distaste, but it did little to keep him from his original goal: distraction, above all else, and to further his knowledge of the lands that surrounded them. The former reason... Mahler was not the man he once was--physically, in the manner of speaking, and the very real fear of loss began to claw at the youthful man, knowing that any day now, there could be a time when his father figure would no longer rise to greet the sun like the rest of them.

And so distraction came as a dark form within the waters of a stream. Slowing his pace, Argent's nostrils flared, deciphering her, his icy eyes boring upon the she-wolf with mild interest.