As difficult as it had been, Kaliban managed to remain in Asteraia despite the raging temptation of winter beyond. He'd kept himself occupied by hunting and burying small caches of voles and snow hares throughout the territory. Other times, he patrolled the borders to stave off the restlessness. Mostly though, Kaliban kept to himself and simply thought. He thought about Terra, of course, but his family too, and the other packs, the flood, the state of prey...All kinds of things to keep his mind busy. In the fall, he had met other wolves, and they'd told him things that had somehow answered some questions while making new, more difficult ones appear. Frustrating! Just the thought of it made him huff and shake his head.
Sekhmet called for them, a piercing call that made the fur along his back rise. It dragged him away from his thoughts, and he tilted his head as he attempted to decipher the meaning in her song. Soon enough, his siblings took to calling back to her, and he listened just as eagerly to their calls. However, he did not call back. Instead, his ears swivelled in the direction of the call and he took off at a fast lope through the snowy fields. Kaliban felt a little impulsive, he had to admit, but his mother had sounded off to let them know that she was comfortable with company. That wasn't an every day event, after all. If he had squandered the opportunity...Besides, it was a good distraction from thinking too much about anything. His mother had a way of being direct and unafraid of confrontation that made her both intimidating and yet, somehow, strangely comforting.
When he spotted her on the hillside, Kaliban finally called out to her with a short howl-like bark. His tail swung in a slow arch of greeting, and he bowed his head as per the rules of formality. Although Sekhmet was his father, he understood just how far she out-ranked him. Besides, she deserved the respect as far as Kaliban was concerned. Although he had come to understand some things about their family and pack were not completely normal, they were still his family and his home. The sight of his mother in the snow made him grin, and he quickly moved to take his place at her side as she began her patrol.
"Prey to the north is good, Mother, but do not waste your time in the forests." It was, in a way, small talk. Idle chatter. It was a way for him to feel helpful, at least, and like he had not been so preoccupied with his own thinking after all. In any case, he kept pace with Sekhmet but looked forward rather than at her. He wondered if she had been on a mission of her own kind. Sekhmet always seemed to have something on her mind, but Kaliban had always known it wasn't his place to ask that kind of thing directly...
"Mother..." The moment he had started, he felt foolish, and suddenly his heart pounded. Was it okay to ask? Would it be safe? And...Why did he worry about that kind of thing? Safe...He shook his head and flicked an ear, irritated. "What does the word 'imprint' mena?" He asked and then looked into her face, wondering if there might be more of an answer there than in her words. It had been a strange term to learn, and Kaliban hadn't wanted to ask too many questions to strangers. Asking Sekhmet was a risk he wanted to take, because he knew she would not fall for any kind of myth surrounding the term itself. Sekhmet spoke brashly, but what she said was seldom clouded by romanticisiation at least.