Stavanger Bay how far you'll go

Sieghard listened attentively, like a well-disciplined student receiving a lesson from a sage teacher. In his mind's eye, he formulated images of the mountains that were described to him. He imagined sweeping vistas, icy impasses, rockslides and avalanches where rubble slid and gouged the earth as it careened out of control. "Yes, mountains are best-suited for the birds, and maybe for hermits," he agreed. "They're no place for me, either. I suppose I haven't lost all faith in my fellow wolf yet, so I shan't be running off to hide in the hills." How lonely it would be to live in the mountains, yet how peaceful. However, wouldn't that amount of quiet and solitude make each day drag out? Would too much safety and predictability feel stifling?

"There are a number of packs, including my own." Sieghard recalled that Aiolos had uttered these words a mere moment ago. He returned his gaze to him, his curiosity evident. What exactly had Aiolos meant? Sieghard thought it was possible that he was a leader based on the overall impression that he'd made on him, but he wasn't sure. Besides, he wasn't his king, so no need to bow his head to him, right? "When you referred to your own pack, did you mean that you run with one, or that you're in charge of one?" he asked.

@Aiolos