Amon wasn't ashamed of his age or his knowledge, but he felt a deep worry when his thoughts inevitably led to the end, and that resulted in some minor hostility. At present he was in denial about his own limitations. Such things would increase as time passed, until all of his strength was stolen away from him. Today was not that day; however, Fox's question made him want to withdraw almost instantly. Amon remained resolute, save for the brief flicker of his ears against his head, and up again.
Old enough to be your grandfather, likely.
He all but slurred, attempting humor but finding that his voice lacked the enthusiasm. Age could be a deciding factor here - either these Redhawks would see his experience as a boon, or the inevitable end as a great fault. Why were you alone for a year?
Fox abruptly appended her question, which earned another roll of Amon's wide shoulders.
I served a legion of warriors and gradually grew to dislike their practices. My superior at the time did not take kindly to my attempts to influence a few of my allies, to try and change some things I didn't agree with.
He spoke of this slowly, as if unsure of the implications such a tale would bring to light; Amon had no intention of causing doubt or spreading chaos among the ranks of the caldera wolves, after all. I was forced to leave. Then whenever I attempted to place down roots, agents from this particular group of warriors would find me and drive me away. The only way to avoid this treatment was to leave, so I did. I traveled quite far, actually.
There, life story: abridged. At least, part of it.