A year had come and gone since the gypsy shewolf Liquid Amber had brought news of Sleekwing's son to Spirane. Truly it had been less news and more a message carried from him, but she'd at least been able to tell him that he seemed in good health when she had seen him. Much had changed in the time since that message had been delivered to him. He'd done as his son had requested of him, keeping a closer watch on the borders than he already did. Even though he was now technically retired, he still found himself patrolling the pack boundaries from time to time out of sheer habit and enjoyment. And yet he was also enjoying the chance to simply be. He would always remain loyal to the mountain and her people, but the responsibility of Castellan now fell on Baird's shoulders. And Sleekwing approved whole-heartedly of the job his once-apprentice was doing in his stead.

Sleekwing had also met with the wolf Jackdaw, as Israfel asked him to. The wolf who seemed to know his son at least fairly well had brought him a confession, the truth of Aithne's death and the tyranny that existed within Iromar. But by the time such information came to light, Pine had already made her move, restoring peace in the moorland and now reigning as the newest young Queen in Moladion. Now all that remained was to seek Israfel out himself. And with Baird helming his role as Castellan well, Sleekwing felt no unease at leaving Spirane to track down his son.

Despite his age, Sleekwing still enjoying stretching his legs. He was no longer young, and perhaps past the prime of his life, but he could still cover ground with ease. Maybe he couldn't run for as long or far as he once could have, but his overall fitness had managed to stave off arthritis for another year. If it weren't for the hoary hairs that now peppered his muzzle and undersides, one might not even be able to tell at first glance that he was nearly his eighteenth spring.

Seeing as Liquid Amber had given him neither time nor place to meet Israfel, the heather streaked male would simply have to try his luck. Sleekwing's youngest had always been his mother's son, and so he was well aware that it would be hard to predict just where the boy would be at any given time. So he simply followed the course of the Aplos away from Spirane and closer to Ruieze Lake, loping along at a comfortable pace for some time until there was a decent amount of distance between himself and his home. Eventually he slowed to a jog, cresting the rise of a small hill before he paused to lift his head and howl for his son.