Although Fox had told him not to worry, he felt inclined to seek out the wolf named Finley and make sure she was alright - it was a job fit for any loyalist of the caldera, and would likely be completed by someone far younger, but Amon was... In denial. Mostly about his own abilities decaying, but a lot of it came with his advancing age. There wasn't going to be much life left in his ragged old bones if he just stopped working. And the forest could only be interesting to him for so long.
Thus the man slipped out of the caldera lands. He left in the early stages of the morning, when the sky was still dark. The birds were not even awake yet. Then he spent the afternoon travelling north, towards the distant mountains. His path naturally curved in to the west by nightfall; and it was in these moments, watching the sky go from a subtle glow to a pitch black, that he realized he wasn't hunting for their missing packmate. He was just... Wandering.
After a brief rest through the late night, Amon was restless. He got to his paws and continued his hike, all while ignoring the pain of his joints. His attention was directed at the sky where he could see faint stars; and as the next morning brought a dull glow to his surroundings, they faded. The old man huffed a grumpy huff and came to a sudden stop beside some birch trees.