When change had come once more to the mountain, Sleekwing had remained steadfast as he had ever been. It rent his heart in two when the victory cry had been the voice of the challenger rather than his younger sister. Shortly thereafter Daenerys' sorrowful song had lifted on the mountain breeze, apologizing to her pack for her failure and telling them that she would spend her time healing in Diveen. The day had brought back a flood of painful memories for the mountain's longtime chief warrior. It seemed like a decade ago that Purge had called upon his parents' pack just as the foreigner had called upon his sister's. Only the knowledge of her life assuaged his fears, for when Purge had ripped the pack from their family's grip, she had killed to do it. But if he had been capable of riding out the storm under the dismal rule of his mother's murderer, he could remain the steadfast strength of the mountain and weather the rule of this newcomer. And besides that, he had more to keep him here now than he had seven years prior. Moonfeather and Israfel relied on him, and he had promised Malina he would keep them safe and raise them well. His loyalty had always been, and would always be, to the land of his ancestors. And so he remained.

He had approached the gathering the new alpha - Roman, as it were - had called that day. But he had remained on the outskirts, scoping out who had stayed. It had been of little surprise to see Niviaq there, readily offering her services to aid the injured male in healing. She was as much of a familiar presence to the mountain folk as Sleekwing was. There had been newcomers, Roman's followers he assumed, but a few others of Daenerys' pack that had remained. Pan's choice to stay had been expected, though Tithe's readily made allegiance had made Sleekwing curious. The most surprising presence, however, had been that of his youngest sister, Haven. When Purge had decimated their family home, Taliesin had taken her and her littermate Idunn to the safety of Diveen. Sleekwing had been the only one of their family to remain and ensure the livelihood of the mountains. Now, it seemed, he would not be alone in such a venture. He returned to his children, letting the dust settle from the seismic shift and focusing his energies on the wellbeing of his small family. Roman had welcomed any of the former pack's members to remain, and so he had done just that.

On this gentle summer's eve Sleekwing moved through the pack lands; he had foregone the routine border patrol of the pack that had been his self-proclaimed duty for the past five years as Daenerys' Castellan. Instead, he had taken up a patrol of the areas surrounding his den, venturing out far enough to get an idea of how the pack was fairing under Roman's rule. The mountain was quiet, quieter than it had been in many years. But the pack did not seem as restless as it had during Purge's stead. He trusted, now, that Roman would not go back on his words of welcome and hunt down Daenerys' remaining family to oust them from their homes. Not all leaders were true to their word, for the politics of packs were often run by those with poisonous tongues. For this evening he felt he could trust Israfel to look after his gentle-hearted sister if worst came to worst. But he had faith in the mountain's people, even if he no longer knew the majority of them.

Climbing among the peaks that had once housed Church and Ragnarok and their family, Sleekwing caught a stale remnant of their scents and thought fondly of the girl that his nephew, Rhaegal, had so often been seen traipsing about the mountain with. But over their fading aroma was a fresh, even more familiar scent. Sleekwing's tail waved back and forth as he picked up a jog, weaving his way through the rocky landscape until he spotted the familiar shape of his sister silhouetted against the sunset. Slowing to a walk, he approached her and rubbed his shoulder against hers in the way Daenerys once might have. He remembered vividly the turmoil that he had experienced the first time he had been forced to make the decision between family or homeland, and wondered how it might be affecting Haven. Relaxing his posterior to the earth, he sat beside her and gazed out across the expanse of land that ran towards the western horizon, the sunset painting the landscape in beautiful hues. "How have you faired, Haven?" he asked quietly. Though circumstances had prevented him from growing close to her in her youth, the eldest remaining child of MoonGlow and Alcide still felt a connection to his sibling. He hoped that she would welcome his presence this evening, and perhaps they could talk of the tumultuous changes that had rocked the long-steady mountain.