Horizon Ridge I Don't Want This Moment to Ever End

@Aesop :D

The Greek boy had grown antsy when he'd gone back to the Bypass, as his paws itched to carry him farther and his optics longed to see more. He'd made it to Emberwood during his last adventure, where he'd met another boy in search of his brother, but from there he'd seen something that caught his interest. Not the glacier, or even the highest peaks of the mountains, but the last of the mountain before it faded into a land filled with trees. It had caught his interest, as such a thing reminded him of homeland. There'd been so many ridges near the place in which his family and pack had settled, and despite getting into trouble each time he went to them, he could never stay off of them. They gave one a nice view of many things in the area, and that was something he wished for. It could, after all, help him to get closer to completing his mental map of the still strange land.

With the intent to see all he could from the ridge, Alastor had set out the day before, following the path he'd taken before to get to the Emberwood. The journey had started earlier in the morning, and trailed well into the night with several small rests in between. Through the night, he'd slept for a bit, but had been up and running again before the sun awoken. From there, the argent lupine continued further, forcing his legs to carry him as fast as they were able for longer periods of time than what he was use to. This was evened out by him allowing himself to be given slightly longer breaks, but not by much. Only when he reached the light and lively forest did he allow himself a real break, with a meal and everything. He'd even gave himself a chance to lay down and nap, but his inner excitement had kept the yearling awake and eager to set off again.

By the time the argent boy reached what he would eventually know to be called Horizon Ridge, his tongue was lolling out the side of his mouth and he was panting heavily. In spite of that, he kept moving through it at a steady trot, looking and sniffing around. When nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he plopped himself right down (literally) on his side, giving his legs a well deserved break. He had not traveled so far since his escape from the humans, but during that event he'd had adrenaline pumping through his veins out of fear and worry. This time he had only his excitement urging him on, which wasn't enough to keep him on his feet forever. "Θα άξιζε τον κόπο ..." he told himself.

B) Keeping things vague because I don't know the outcome of his fight with Burke.

The fight had shaken him in ways that he did not expect. It had been a long time since he had had to chase a trespasser from any lands, and the experience proved to be as unpleasant as he remembered. Even worse, though, was the doubts that had settled into the corners of his mind. The way the male had just wandered in, careless in his... his what? Curiosity? But curiosity could be sated in far more peaceful ways. And that was what didn't sit right with Aesop. The man's motives were so inexplicable, his means so unnecessary.

Instead of remaining in the pack's heartlands and licking his wounds, he left as soon as he could, roving over the empty land between the ocean and the mountain. He wandered and stewed, trying to figure out why the encounter unsettled him so. He felt like he was missing something. It threatened to drive him mad, and so he quickly learned to stop thinking so much. He only got a few hours of solitude, but they were enough for him to come to grudging peace with what had happened. He didn't like fighting, he told himself, and that was why he was so upset about it.

In the hours he wandered, he saw and heard no one. He became accustomed to the silence, and so he was surprised when he came upon a young man lying flat on his side. He was more surprised, however, by the strange language with which he spoke to himself. Strange to his unaccustomed ear, but not wholly unfamiliar. "Was that Greek?" he asked, throwing propriety and manners to the wind in his interest. And even as he says it, he knows that it's true. Weeks before, the sea-wraith had spoken it to him as well, but if it was unfamiliar to him now, it was only more so when spoken by a woman.

As the boy lay, silent after his last words and working to even out his breathing still, his eyes had drifted shut. He'd stayed that way for hardly a minute, though, because a voice had pulled his eyes opened. The voice and wolf were unfamiliar to him, as was the scent that clung to him when he sniffed at the air. Unsure of what to expect, the yearling brought himself first onto his stomach, and then proceeded to stand up and shake any dirt from his argent pelt. The action was an unconscious one, something he'd do just to make himself presentable. He brought his blue gaze to meet the face of the other, playing his question over in his head for a second to make sure he'd heard correctly. Once he was sure, his tail started to sway faintly, clearly happy to have met someone who could recognize his native tongue. Someone who wasn't Shadow, of course, as the Roman had seemed fluent in it during their first meeting.

Alastor gave a nod of his head in response, a small smile making way onto his face. "Yes, it was," he answered. "Do you speak it?" It would be nice to know that there were others he could speak to as he would his mother and brother before being taken from Greece, aside from the leader of his pack. It would be a nice thing, and would possibly result in him leaving the Bypass more often than he currently did, just to speak to another. Though he wished for that, he did not hope for it too strongly. If he did, he was sure he'd be let down and saddened, and he wanted to avoid that situation.

He would feel worse about disturbing (and perhaps even startling,) the other if it weren't for the intensity with which his curiosity burned. The connection to the sea wolf mattered little to him. A (thus far) friendly face that spoke the language was far more interested to him. Aesop watched as the wolf roll to his feet, shake himself off. He seemed as happy to have someone recognize it as Aesop was to find someone speaking it, and that would at least bode well for the conversation.

The boy asked if Aesop spoke Greek himself. He smiled, but shook his head. "No, but I love it. I used to know some words, a long, long time ago," he said, gazing at the other with an intensity that was probably a bit inappropriate for the situation. A moment too late, he remembers to reign himself in. Still, in an attempt to save face, he lets his expression slide back into something more indifferent, more nonchalant.

Hearing that the other did not speak the language disheartened the boy a bit, but not as much as it before in the past. This time it was different. The others had neither heard of the language or spoke it, but the man before him was different. He recognized it, and mentioned knowing some words once upon a time. While his smile had faltered for a second, it was quickly brought back strong, and his tail didn't cease it's motions. It was not what he'd wished for, but good enough in his mind. "I've never met someone who doesn't love it," he commented, happy as ever. It was true, someone could have disliked it that he'd met in the past, but no one ever outright said such a thing. It seemed hard to hate it, as it sounded as beautiful to the boy as Greece looked.

Alastor had not been able to catch the intensity of the other's gaze before it was changed, as he was busy giving in to an idea that was forming in his mind. It seemed like a good one, and he thought the man might even like it, too. "I could teach you some words, if you'd like to know them again," he offered, a small tilt to his head following his words. He'd never taught anyone before, so he wasn't sure how well he'd do, but it couldn't be that hard. All he would need to do is say whatever words the man wished to hear in Greek, and help him repeat them. Easy enough. Before that, however, he felt it best to offer his name. "I am Alastor, by the way," the argent lupine said. "What is your name?"

Aesop loved the Greek language, and he loved it well. It was the language of his youth, of his love. It was long nights beneath the velvet sky, spent in silence but for the breathless, "αγάπη μου" traded in blissful adoration. It was the language of a time long passed, but to this day it struck a chord of sheer longing so overpowering that he knew he was slipping. Until he caught himself, and his face returned to a stony mask.

The stranger, Alastor, offered to teach him again. He smiled, wan, but nodded. He gained strength before he spoke, "sure, why not. Teach an old dog some new tricks." He issued it as a challenge, but a friendly one. "Alastor? A pleasure," oh, so there was his old charm. Far less clumsy than when he had attempted to win Burke over. He wondered if he was attracted to Alastor, or if this was just misplaced affection tinged with an overdose of nostalgia. "I'm Aesop."

Alastor's own love of the language ran deep through his veins, and even into his very soul itself. It was words spoken softly as he and his siblings lay trying to sleep, forming stories that seemed so vivid when spoken in had favorite tongue. It was the small chats he'd shared with his sister before her passing, speaking of flowers and plants, and even things as trivial as how the sky looked in the morning. It was even the words he'd swap with his brother, ones that held an unspoken challenge each time they slipped from his tongue. The language was a connection to his family, to his home, and, in turn, the love he felt for each of those things. Each holding it's own sort of affection, as things often did in the yearling's mind. It was something of a pleasure to hear the other was willing to be taught once more, simply because of how he felt towards Greece itself.

"It makes me glad that you are open to learn," the boy voiced, his tail moving quicker if only by a bit. "Are there any words, or phrases, you would like to learn first?" For once, it would be he who taught another, rather than the other way around, and he secretly liked that more than he allowed to show. He paused for a second when he was given the man's name. Aesop. The name seemed familiar to him. He could place it only as a name once mentioned in one of his mother's nighttime tales, but who the ancient man was exactly could not be placed right away. While his mind wandered slowly, he gave a small bow of his cranium and offered a kind smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, too, Aesop," he said, sitting soon after.

His name, his first name, came not from any Greek origin, but from his mother's love of stories. Morals, she thought, were best taught through tales. From the day of his birth, and perhaps earlier, she had murmured him fables to make him wise. So wise he became, even before the years granted him experience. Always so old, he had been told, so tired. I'll make a young man of you yet. His surname, however, was Greek in origin, taken in his grief after the death of his first and greatest love.

But that was neither here nor there. Now it was Alastor who held his attention with the promise of lessons. He settled down facing Alastor, perched sphinx-like in the dirt. "Let's start with the basics. Y'know, hello and shit like that. Go easy on me, at least to begin with," he suggested. He smiled politely in response to the pleasantries, tail now languidly brushing the dirt in a wide arc behind him.

Though a light laugh managed to make it's way from the younger male's mouth, he did give a nod of his head to show he understood. Simple words, the basics. He could do that. It would make things easier on his end, too, as single words would be better to teach someone right off that back in comparison to long phrases. "I will go as easy as I can," Alastor told him, his quiet laughter having been replaced by an unwavering smile once more. He gave Aesop a look to be sure he was ready, before setting his lesson into motion. "Try saying 'γεια σας'," the boy started, easily switching from one language to the next. "That is how you say 'hello'." Teaching someone else his favorite language, and in a land that seemed so foreign, too, brought forth a feeling the Greek could not put words to. It was something enjoyable, though to a greater extent. Little did he know it was more than just that at play, that in his mind he had unconsciously started to like being close to the stranger—though he no longer saw them as strangers, as they'd swapped names just moments ago.

"'Πώς είσαι' means 'how are you'," Alastor informed him. "And 'Είμαι μεγάλος' means 'I'm great." The possibility of him going too quickly had not been quick to dawn on him. The phrases were child's play to him, and seemed as easy as anything else. When he did realize it, though, a sheepish look crossed on his face. "Please, stop me if I'm going too fast." The goal was to teach the other man, not confuse him by speaking too quickly.

"γεια σας is hello. Easy enough," he said, repeating the word slowly to try and get used to the foreign consonants. The language seemed to fit the locale, he thought. Ancient, smooth. It sounded better when Alastor said it, but there was a simple joy to learning, one that he had quite forgotten. Perhaps he should have been embarrassed, as he thought his accent clashed with the words, but he found himself remarkably free from worrying about his appearance. A liberating feeling, he thought, and so he didn't question it.

Aesop did his best to keep up, the strange syllables heavy on his graceless tongue. "Πώς είσαι," he repeated, then, "Είμαι μεγάλος. Am I doing that right? Correct me if I fuck it up, I think even my gentle ego can handle it. Πώς είσαι, Πώς είσαι, Πώς είσαι." With each stumble, he laughed, a low chuckle at his own mistakes, then picked himself up and tried again. "Maybe a bit slower, I'm not so quick as that," he said, then, "Είμαι μεγάλος. And if Είμαι μεγάλος is wrong, and I'm not great?" He was surprised by much fun he was having, weighty though his memories may be. Perhaps, all this time, letting go was as simple as this?

Each time the other would repeat what he'd said, the Greek boy would smile and nod, quietly praising him. He was sure it could not be so easy to learn a new language, to say each word correctly, but found the man to be doing better than most would. To Alastor, looking at the creamy wolf as a beginning, he was speaking as wonderfully as the next guy. "You are doing very well for someone who was not taught to speak Greek at a younger age," he commented, unable to contain his own excitement. There he was, the yearling in a land that laid far from his own, teaching an older wolf how to speak in his tongue. It seemed like something that had a very low chance of ever happening, making all the better.

Alastor nodded in understanding when he was asked to maybe go a bit slower. It was too be expected, since even he had realized he was going a bit too quickly. Though it'd been realized, he couldn't help it at first, but told himself to try harder as they continue. "I will slow down some," the argent lupine told him. He waited a second after, wishing to stay true to his word of going slower, before answering his question. "If you aren't doing great, you could say 'Δεν είμαι μεγάλος', which means 'I'm not great'." A moment was permitted to pass by before he opened his maw again. "But I hope you never have to use that phrase," he added quietly, uncertain if his words would be appreciated or not.

Probably my last post tonight B) Enjoying this quite a bit, though!

Alastor was a patient teacher, and Aesop thought he was a good one. With each attempt, he praised him softly, each time coaxing a small smile from Aesop before he continued. He wondered if he was actually doing well, or if Alastor was just flattering him. Either way, he appreciated it, nodding at the compliment. "I've got a good teacher is all," he returns wryly. Alastor seemed giddy with the opportunity to teach, his excitement endearing and infectious. Aesop's pride had never kept him from accepting lessons where he could find them, and now he was glad for it. A new friend was always a welcome thing.

"Much appreciated," he laughed. Their original speed would have become too much far too quickly. "Δεν είμαι μεγάλος," he repeated slowly. "Δεν είμαι μεγάλος. But right now, Είμαι μεγάλος. I just like to plan for contingencies, you dig? Now, what else is there?"

Alright. I'm enjoying it, too! :D

It made the boy happy to see a smile cross his new found friend's each time he praised him. It made him feel as if his approval was appreciated, to a certain extent, and showed that the other really was interested; not that he'd ever truly doubted that, of course. What made things even better was the compliment he received in turn. It was his first time acting as a teacher for anyone, let alone towards someone whose seen more years than he. "A teacher can only get you so far," the boy pointed out, grinning childishly as he did. The words were not in an attempt to take away the effect of the compliment, but to tell of what he actually believed and further show how well he thought the other to be doing. So well, he knew, that he was sure that they would be able to have decent conversations together in the language, if they were to meet even more on days other than the current.

Alastor believed it was good to have a back up plan, even though he often did not, and felt a bit silly for having assumed there was a current situation that would call for the other to speak of not being great. Something like that was a feeling he wished upon none of his friends, as each one held a kindness to them that he didn't wish to ever witness being dulled. If something ever arose, though, he was sure the other would be able to say the words wonderfully, as he was catching on quickly in the boy's mind. "Hm." The Greek had to think of what would come next. The basics of a conversation had already been covered, aside from how to tell someone their name. Instead of rolling with that, however, the yearling's mind decided to command his mouth to say something else. "What else do you want to know how to say?" he inquired. "What do you think has the possibility of coming up that you'll need to provide a response to in a conversation?" He had felt as if he teaching only what came to his mind, but wanted to have a chance to teach what lingered in Aesop's head instead. It seemed like the polite thing to do, since the language lessons were for the older wolf.

Sorry for the wait!

Aesop could tell that they could easily continue like that, complimenting each other and deflecting in turn. He decided to be the one to break the chain, nosing Alastor in the shoulder and humming a noncommittal, "if you say so." The compliments and flattery were encouraging, though. Aesop was still unsure about his pronunciation, uncertain of whether he was stumbling over words or syllables. Already he knows that he'll have to practice. Somehow, he doesn't find the idea as unappealing as he should, though. The idea of impressing Alastor at their next meeting (there would have to be another meeting) was an extremely satisfying one.

"How about some other basic stuff? Y'know, shit like 'hi my name is...' and 'I'm from so-and-so,'" he suggests. Pleasantries are simple and boring, but still quite necessary. Aesop would rather devote his time to more exciting words, but he understood the necessity of building a strong foundation. If he was to speak this language and be useful, he couldn't just know a smattering of words for things he liked, but real every day phrases.[/b]

It's fine! c:

The lesson was going much better than the boy had originally expected it to. While the man would stumble on occasion, Alastor really did believe he was doing an excellent job for someone who was practically a beginner. He was curious about just how much he'd known before forgetting how to speak the language, and was also curious about who had taught him back then. The Greek wolf wished to ask, but since they had only just met, he decided it best to save it for another time. He did not want to risk the other leaving out of annoyance because he had tried to pry to much into his life, as he was actually starting to like the light coated male. He came off as being kind, as well as a quick learner, which were both qualities he fancied. His eagerness to teach came from his need to share his language with another, and he soon discovered that it also came from his want to become close friends with yet another wolf; even if this one did seem different from, say, Crëyr or Shadow.

Alastor was not one to swear or curse often, having been chided by his mother at a young age over it. Somehow, though, he did not mind the older wolf's use of profanities. To make things stranger, he actually found himself waiting to hear such words each time the other spoke. The boy wrote it off as a hidden amusement towards words he'd hardly ever heard before, which was probably the case anyways. Either that, or the yearling was off his rocker. “If you say 'Γεια σας, το όνομά μου είναι ο Αίσωπος', it means 'Hello, my name is Aesop',” he told him, more than happy to answer. “And 'I am from' is 'Είμαι από'.” There was probably nothing out there that could beat the argent male's current situation—unless, by some twist of fate, he was ever returned to Greece (but that was unlikely to ever happen).

The introduction was the longest string of words he had had to deal with yet, but he was up to the challenge. He found himself wanting to impress the younger wolf, presumably to prove to Alastor that he was as fine a teacher as Aesop insisted he was. So he listened carefully, turning the words over in his head for a moment before repeating. "Γεια σας, το όνομά μου είναι ο Αίσωπος. Was that right? I think I need to hear it again," he admitted sheepishly. "That last word is my name, right? I remember that." He looked proud to recall it, as well. Already he found himself recalling some of the phrases he used to hear, though he could not recall their meanings.

"Είμαι από. Easy enough. Well, Είμαι από' Stavanger Bay, not too far from here," he tells him. "What about you? I wanna see more of you, if that's alright. Catch some more lessons. Always thought that I should pick up another language, shit makes you a well-rounded individual." He did want more lessons, as much as he wanted to see Alastor again. He was fascinating, and intelligent, and really, what more could Aesop want in a conversational partner? In a friend, even?

For an old dog learning a new trick, Aesop seemed to be doing fairly well. The yearling had, for a brief moment in the beginning, thought he would need to constantly repeat the words and correct mispronunciations, but it was quite obvious that was not the case. Though he was older and had a mind no longer so easily influenced and taught, the creamy colored man was going on as if that wasn't true. He seemed quick to pick things up, so it shocked Alastor a bit when he heard a repeat was needed, but didn't allow it to show through to the outside. It was understandable, of course, and the Greek had no problem repeating it anyways. “Γεια σας, το όνομά μου είναι ο Αίσωπος,” he repeated, trying to space the words out a bit more as he spoke so his companion would be able to hear each one better. “Yes, the last word is your name.” The younger male smiled at that, but then a strong wave of curiosity washed over him. “Who taught you Greek in the past?” he suddenly asked, but shook his head slowly directly after. “You don't need to answer that if you don't want to.” Alastor hadn't wanted to pry at all, but the curious questions had grown too large and his mind had forced him to release at least one.

The combination of the man speaking his favored language, telling him his pack's name, and mentioning wanting to see more of him had the boy's tail wagging as if he were a pup being rewarded for the first time ever. “Είμαι από Noctisardor Bypass,” the argent male answered, switching from Greek to English as if it was the simplest thing in the world (which it was slowly becoming with how often he did it). “It's pretty far away. If you know where this brightly lit forest is, one that looks almost as if it is on fire, you can go there and then head East. Eventually, you'll come across it.” Giving directions was an easy thing for him to do. From a very young age, he'd been able to memorize routes and direction he'd gone in, and knew how to get to each place he'd been to in the past. It was as if he was slowly building a giant map in his mind with each step he took. “We could meet halfway, though, each time you want to learn more Greek?” It was a suggestion he was okay with doing, as he didn't want the great distance between the packs' lands discouraging Aesop from ever wanting to see him again.

Loathe as he was to admit he needed help, this phrase was the longest yet, and some of the words were tricky.  A second time hearing would help, though.  He was sure of it.  Alastor obliged, repeating himself carefully.  Aesop nodded along gratefully, mouthing the words as Alastor spoke.  "Γεια σας, το όνομά μου είναι ο Αίσωπος," he repeated, much slower this time.  He tasted each word, taking his time with it before nodding.  "Γεια σας, το όνομά μου είναι ο Αίσωπος.  Got it."


Aesop blinked at the question, shuffling in place uncomfortably.  Lying would be easy enough, but Aesop wasn't so sure he wanted to do that.  To call his first teacher a friend would be dishonoring his memory, as they were so, so much more.  But did he want to admit the potentially damning truth?  In the end he decided to do so, because it is always better to ruin a friendship early if it's going to be ruined.  If it's going to be ruined, but Aesop wasn't so optimistic.  "My first mate, back when I was- shit- your age, I think?  He spoke it, and would try and teach me.  I cared more about listening than learnin', though," he laughed.  "That's what it's like when you're young, I guess.  Greek's your first language, yeah?"  He didn't mind prying so much after Alastor started it.


Aesop frowned, trying and failing to visualize the area Alastor described.  It was wholly unfamiliar to him, as was much of the area still.  "I can come to you," he said, eager for the chance to explore.  He also would not know how to find anywhere in between them, and it might be easier to find someone to point him the right direction of a packland rather than an unclaimed territory.  "I need to get out more, anyway.  See more of the Wilds."

The boy watched his companion mouth the words as he spoke them, and then listened as he repeated them once again. It came out slower at first, but then seemed to flow right out when he repeated it another time. He felt a bit of pride surge through him, both for Aesop and for himself. He was glad the older man was learning quickly, and also happy that his teachings seemed to be sticking. It was a pleasant feeling, watching a student grow and lean quicker (especially when said student was older than him). “Great,” he said, praising his friend for what felt like the millionth time. He couldn't help it, though, as he was one to give praise and positive feedback when it was due.

Alastor listened carefully when the other revealed who his first teacher had been, not wanting to miss a single word. Two things caught him off guard for only a second—'first mate' and 'he', which implied that not only had the cream coated wolf had multiple lovers, he had also taken another male as one; or, possible, males. The Greek lupine didn't judge, though, as he'd been raised better than that. Plus, saying anything negative about it would be like the pot calling the kettle black. He wondered what had happened to the man's first mate, but knew asking that would be going too far. “I am sure he made a wonderful teacher,” the yearling said. He'd never had a lover, or even a crush, really, and his only teacher had been his mother. The reason for listening, rather than truly learning, was lost to him, but he didn't mind that. Someday, perhaps, the reasoning behind all things concerning partnerships would be revealed to him. “It is,” the boy confirmed, a look of fondness lingering on his face as he recalled learning the language. “Greek was the language of my birth pack, everyone spoke it. I was only ever taught English in order to converse with my father, though why my mother taught us is lost to me. He was hardly around enough for us to even use the language for him, and when he was speaking was not his strong suit. I am glad now, however, to have learned it, because I like speaking to you.” Alastor gave a light shrug of his shoulders towards the end of his words when he spoke of his father. He could not speak ill of him, but he also couldn't speak fondly either. For awhile, he had felt his mother had wasted her time teaching him and his siblings the English language, but now not so much. Had he never learned, he wouldn't be able to speak to Aesop, and not speaking to him was a terrible thought.

Thoughts and memories of his short past were soon pushed aside to make room for the excitement that started to swell within him. Alastor's tail started to wag a bit more, and his smile turned into a large, childish grin. It made him glad that the other was willing to make the long journey to his home. “As long as you don't think you'll get lost, and are up for the journey,” he added, indirectly telling Aesop that he didn't want him to tire himself out or lose his way just to see the argent male again. “You will definitely see quite a bit if you travel all the way to the Bypass.” Emberwood, the meadow and creek, maybe even the wetlands, too. The man would be able to see many sights if he made the long journey there, many of which the boy had already seen himself.

Aesop was held, for a moment, in an uneasy limbo as he waited for Alastor's response.  He paid keen attention to Alastor's body language, his expression, trying to pick out disgust or... anything, really.  Much to Aesop's surprise (and relief), the boy simply responded.  No, it was no simple response.  It was, perhaps, the best answer he could have given, and Aesop smiled and relaxed incrementally, free from his fear of judgement.  "He was," said Aesop, and if his voice was tinged with melancholy, then he wouldn't admit to it.  Any untoward feelings of sadness he masked with an easy smile, and let that be that.  No need to drudge up uncomfortable pasts while on the precipice of a wonderful future.  

He marveled at the idea of an entire pack full of an entire pack speaking a different language, a rather Western-centric thought, but he was a wolf so we can cut him some slack.  He felt some sympathy for Alastor, too.  No wonder he delighted so in teaching the language, isolated as he was from it.  Aesop shifted a bit uncomfortably at the mention of Alastor's more or less absent father, not sure if he was supposed to offer words of comfort or just accept the information as a show of trust.  Luckily, he needed to do neither.  The last statement had heat rising to Aesop's cheeks, warming the tips of his ears.  "Aw," he crooned, lips twisting into a wry smile.  "Right back at you, kid.  You really ain't that bad."  An understatement, but Aesop trusted that Alastor would pick up on that.  He seemed quite clever.

Though Aesop's smile was not so wide, his pleasure was still evident in the brush of his tail and the set of his shoulders.  He barked a laugh, allowing the white line of his teeth to flash, and shook his head.  "A little travel won't hurt me, I'm not that old."  After all, the distance he had crossed to arrive in the Wilds was far greater than any within them, he was sure of that.  "I sure as hell hope so, I've been playin' recluse for far too long now.  's about time I got out."  He was confident in his navigational abilities, able to rely on the sun and the stars to guide him anywhere he wanted to be.  "It sounds like quite the trip, but I'll make it when I'm able.  D'you have somewhere to be now, though?  Can't imagine you made the hike up here just for fun.  I might be able to give you directions.  Return the favor and all."

The was a pretty big chance that Alastor had said too much when he'd spoken of his father, but he didn't dwell on that. He'd rambled on accidentally, but it was all to get his point across. Until arriving in the Wilds, he hadn't needed to use the English language. Even when he was being kept as a pet, the language was not needed, as the only other animal there with him had been an old dog, and he'd never hardly ever spoken to him. Teekon had made him realize that not many spoke Greek, which more or less forced him to speak the more common language instead. He didn't feel as if he was being forced when speaking to the friends he'd made, but talking to Aesop seemed to be the lightest feeling so far. It was enjoyable, but the reasoning behind that had yet to be figured out by the boy. When the cream colored man responded to what he'd said, he couldn't keep the childish grin from spreading wide across his face. It felt nice receiving something of a compliment from the older wolf, and he'd already started to value the man's opinion of him.

Alastor was mildly shocked when the other referred to himself as a recluse, as the word didn't seem to match him. He envisioned a recluse as being someone incapable of holding any conversations, or someone constantly trying to get out of interactions with others so they could return to whatever small space they'd claimed as their home. Aesop didn't seem like the sort, but then again, perhaps the boy's views of the title were a bit too over the top. “I look forward to seeing you there, whenever you decide to make the trip. I'm sure you'll be able to make it just fine,” he said, but worry still resided in the back of his mind. He didn't want his new friend to get lost or hurt just to see him, but he also didn't want to doubt the older wolf's traveling abilities. His mind had become a contradiction of sorts, and he couldn't hep but side with both sides of his conscious. The thoughts subdued themselves slightly in order to hear Aesop's voice continue on, and Alastor smiled sheepishly in response to his question. “No, I don't,” he answered. “Aside from the Bypass, maybe, but I know how to get back there. I like leaving the pack lands every now and again to travel further away and commit the paths I take and the things I see to memory. It's like a way to build a map in my mind, but I never have a set destination when I head out. I just go wherever I'm taken.” Perhaps that wasn't the best way to travel for most, but it was never a problem for the Greek. At times, it seemed as if he was incapable of getting lost, since he always seemed to know how to get back home—or to wherever he'd started from.

Fade soon?  Sorry for the wait/shortness D:

Aesop grinned.  "Lookin' forward to it, too.  I'll probably make the trip in a week or so," he said.  He wanted to be sure his wounds wouldn't give him trouble before traveling so far.  As it would turn out, they were fine.  However, he hadn't taken travel time into account, so while he expected to be at the Bypass's borders in only a week or so, it would turn out to be far longer than that.  If only he'd thought to ask how long the trip would be, it would save them both some worry and trouble.

Aesop made impressed noises at Alastor's explanation.  Even if he didn't understand the concept, it was an interesting one.  Making a map in one's head seemed convenient, too.  When Aesop traveled, it was often a burning of bridges, and so he never cared to recall the paths and byways he took.  "If you ain't got anywhere to be, care to join me?  Haven't seen this part of the shore before, so I was doin' some exploring," he offered, keen on spending more time with Alastor and, perhaps, getting to know him better.  And he still didn't quite want to be alone, his wounds still twitching with pain and reminding himself that things weren't as okay as they should have been.  As he would have liked them to be. Some company would do him well, and Alastor's was as good as any.  More so, he thought. 

Ahhh, sorry for the wait. x-x” Fade soon sounds good to me. c:

The boy nodded in response to when the other said he planned to reach the Bypass' borders. His excitement kept him from thinking rationally, as it would in a week's time. He would not think to factor in how long the travel would take for the older wolf, given the fact he'd never been there before. He was concerned over the possibility of his friend getting lost, that was true, but that didn't register in his mind immediately as being connected to how long it might take him to reach the pack's land. A week's time. That was what was in his mind now, and that was when he would expect to see his friend by. Neither of them currently knew just how much the journey would worry them both, nor could they know when they would truly see one another again. Surely, it would not be after only a single week.

Alastor gave a quick look to the surrounding area, looking at it more or less for the effect of consideration than anything else. The Greek already knew the answer he would give, probably before the question had even been asked, too, but he didn't want to risk frightening away a friend with a whole new level of eagerness. “I would love to,” he answered, bringing his light gaze back to his the cream wolf once. The look in them probably betrayed how excited he really was if one cared to look enough into them. “I am always looking to learn more about new areas.” It was true, but he also had ulterior motives. He, too, wanted to learn more about the man he'd befriended. He wished to know everything the other was willing to share, but did not expect everything to be shared right away. That would be impractical, and Alastor wasn't going to press and pry at things he might have no business knowing about.