Slowly but surely, Sleekwing was withdrawing from his duties as Castellan and allowing Baird to take on a bigger role in the pack. It was a subtle shift, perhaps taking longer than it should, but after thirteen years serving the pack, he wanted to make sure things were done right. He knew his apprentice would do well in the role, looking out for the pack's safety and making the rank his own in due course. Even so, after so many years as the pack's guardian, it was hard to image a life of retirement for himself. Perhaps it would give him a chance to spend more time with Malina, or maybe he would be able to travel to Glorall to visit Alcmene, and seek out Los and Mana as well. It had been too long since he had seen his elder children. Years had passed since he had tracked down Los in the valley, and his son seemed less than receptive of his visit. Inwardly, he was ashamed of the fact that he used his duty as Castellan of the mountain as an excuse to himself for not having seen them in so many years. Even Israfel had gone on his own way, only Moonfeather visiting her father on a regular basis. Soon he would not longer bear the mantle Lord Commander of Spirane, and it would leave him no further reason not to seek out his wayfaring children. And though it made the aging male somewhat nervous - what if none of them wanted to see him? - there was also an excited outlook of possibility.

So, needless to say, Sleekwing was surprised to hear the howl of his eldest son, Los, lifting on the winter air across Spirane. The seasoned male actually sat down, ears pricked forward alertly, and for a moment he simply listened, noting the ways his son's voice had changed. There was a maturity to the call, and a hardness that brought up restless emotions about Rogue. As the echoes of his voice began to fade Sleekwing remembered himself, realizing he perhaps should already have been on the move to meet with his son. So he lifted his head and answered, calling out to him and ensuring he would be there swiftly.

Rising to his paws, he set off briskly across the mountainside. He was not too far away, but far enough to have warranted a reply. He moved swiftly, though not without the hampering of old age. Sleekwing was well aware that he was past his prime. The many years of service to the mountain had begun to take their toll - his joints ached and his speed was not what it had once been. Regardless, he was still the picture of health, having always taken good care of himself. He was no longer a spry young male, but he was a respectable, experienced wolf who could still hold his own if the need arose.

Before too long, he crested a snowdrift and spotted Los' form, stark against the snowy backdrop. Unbidden, a smile spread across Sleekwing's features, warmth flooding through him despite the icy temperatures. No matter what happened, no matter his son's opinions of him, it was just good to see him, to know he was healthy. As the heather painted male continued down the incline, though, he realized that Los was not alone. A young girl was with him, and Sleekwing's heart skipped a beat. Was this, could it be...was he a grandfather? Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he pushed himself a bit faster to close the distance between them, slowing to a jog and then a walk as he approached them.

Sleekwing stopped before them, not wanting to encroach on his son's space, unsure if an embrace would be well received from him or rejected entirely. So he stayed where he was, unable to wipe the smile from his features - not that he would want to have in the first place. "Los, it is so good to see you, it's been too long," he said, a questioning look passing from father to son before he took a closer look at the girl. Immediately, he knew without question that this was his granddaughter. Her heart-shaped mask angled just so to recall memories of his own mother, MoonGlow, and the red of her eyes the same shade as Los'. Perhaps they were things that could be attributed to a score of Moladion wolves, but Sleekwing recognized her as family the moment he laid eyes on her. He could not contain his happiness to meet her. A grandchild! He was a grandfather! "Hello there," he said, "I'm Sleekwing, and who might you be?" The girl was clearly no pup, maybe nearing her second birthday. But he couldn't help but want to dote on her - after all, wasn't that was grandfathers were supposed to do?