He should have abandoned his vigil and aided in their chase, even if he was far slower than the two younger, lighter wolves. He should have at least done more than sit and watch - but alas, Amon did not. And now the herd had taken flight, charging away from the approaching threat and towards the distant mountains. Even the very old elk seemed to be too quick for the spry hunters, who returned with a deflated sort of energy; while the girl stated the obvious, the boy gave a quick apology, and Amon sighed.
He wasn't angry with them. It had been a good chance to practice their skills. The herd would not return to this area of the wilds for some time though, not with the memory of wolves to sour their plans. Eh, it happens. I'll find something else for you.
Maybe something smaller or slower, which he could help with. But the man wouldn't get his hopes up.
As he rose from his location, his body popped in various places - like it had conformed to a shape, and now was returning to a wolfish figure. He stretched his rear legs with a couple of steps, feeling the tension in his hips, and then turned towards the direction of the caldera. Without another word, Amon began to march back to the pack lands.