Duck Lake And so the ducks fly

If we weren't tied to a single place, then I don't think there would be the concept of a pack, Dovev countered. Yes, the white beast loved to stalk the creek borders, reveling in small discoveries; like the log. But perhaps this stranger was called to a different path, one of exploration, bereavement and excitability as he drifted from place to place. Dovev was not impressed. He was more for consistency.

The tundra wolf paused, mulling over the subject of absence. It reminded him of Bazi, who had left the group.
Wolves do leave from time to time, but others take their place, he pointed out through pursed lips. The cool affront that had been flickering inside Dovev's throat formed a thoughtful expression on his tilted face.