It was true enough that leaving the mountain was a rarity for its Castellan, for his duty bound him to her. On the rare occasion he did find reason to leave Spirane it was usually somehow in service to the pack, or simply to enjoy a day at the crags. Of course there had been the illness that had strangled his senses the winter prior, which had landed him in the valley and owing his life to Kiyomi. This expedition, however, was one of only self serving intents, and he hoped that he would quickly be able to find answers to the questions that riddled his mind. It was most fortunate, then, that he stumbled upon the form of his son not very far away from Spirane's boundaries.

As he approached, Sleekwing took notice of the wag of Los' tail, and accepted it as a welcoming signal from the ever-growing adolescent. How strange it was to watch a child grow up from afar, first seeing them as squalling bundles of fluff at their mother's abdomen, then lanky long legged yearlings, and now a stoic young man. He nodded at his words, acknowledging that he was in fact quite well. But he was quick to list off the questions that pressed at his mind thereafter, pacing the words in an attempt not to overwhelm Los. Earnestly he looks upon the impassive features of he who so greatly reflected his father in appearance, though it seemed he had perhaps inherited his mother's facial pattern by way of nurture rather than nature. Sleekwing was far from a bigot, never having judged the relationship between Malina and Rogue, but the mate and imprint of Malina had never exactly seen eye to eye. It was somewhat strange for a father to see the reflection of the wolf she who completed his soul had chosen over him in his son's eyes.

Blue eyes were fixated upon those of garnet red, a recessive trait from his mother's side that had shone through not only in his son but in Daenerys' boy Drogon as well. Though Los had been born with duo-toned eyes, accented with the turquoise of his mother's eyes. Sleekwing wondered then, for a moment, if his children were aware of their younger cousins. Something to mention, most certainly, though the subject was practically forgotten as he locked onto each word that Los spoke now. His son was well, Alcmene remained in Glorall, Mana and Malina were unaccounted for. At the question asked in return his head shook back and forth a single time, "As far as I can tell, she is as healthy and well as she has ever been." It was far from an exact science, but he knew that he would have sensed it if she had met some ill fate since the switch of power in Glorall.

He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and as he breathed out it was with a feeling of relief. Los did not bear all of the answers, but Sleekwing did feel reassured at the information he'd had to share. He grinned then as Los sort of shifted the tone of the conversation. His father was more than happy to oblige such a thing. "Indeed you have; I do not doubt that within the next few moons you will surpass me." He chuckled at the notion, thinking himself rather old to have a son so near to maturity - even if another year would come to pass before he well and truly dwarfed his father. "If you ever want to come for a visit, you are more than welcome. I am sure your new cousins would revel in the opportunity." Despite how little time he had spent being a father, he slipped into the joking dad tones as if it were an old glove. But every word he spoke was true, for without a real father in their lives, the boys took every opportunity to seek out other males to look up to. And Sleekwing knew that the borders of Spirane were always open to family, especially those of flesh and blood.