Lightly, Lightly, Flowers Dance

Having grown a decent bit closer to the border, the boy had started to think on what direction he would go. His thoughts hadn't had long to start before they were nestled in the back of his mind, and the argent lupine was turning to greet the sound of a voice. His eyes were met by a wolf with a pelt of gold, one he'd never seen before, but could tell from his scent he was apart of the pack. Having never held the desire to be rude during a first meeting, Alastor turned himself around in order to face the direction of the other male, and padded closer to him. His earlier destination had been temporarily forgotten, as he was much more concerned with meeting another member of his new home than of learning of the surrounding area.

“Greetings,” the yearling called back in return, stopping in his steps once he was close enough to the other to speak comfortably. “How might you be today?” The young flower boy was getting better with using the common tongue, rather than the one he'd learned before it. At first, such a task had not been easy, as it was merely out of habit that he spoke the Greek language, but now it was much easy to switch back and forth between the two when needed. It was helpful when encountering new wolves, as he could never be sure what languages any of them spoke just by looking at them. Something like that was surely impossible, unless, by chance, someone was born with an odd sixth sense.