Sceral paused, mulling over whether or not this was a good idea. He'd never done much scouting before, never really went too far from his home that sat snug between the Sierra Hills and Spectral Woods. The furthest he went was to the Creek, where he met Mercy, a member of Magnolia Glen. Then there was Hypatia, the princess of the same pack, though she stumbled across him. And now he was here again, at the pack's border. Frankly, the Aesir-Donata wasn't too clued up on the relationship between the Glen and the Oak wolves. He just wanted to check up on those wolves he had known from the floral smelling pack.

He had lied. Well, no. He didn't like to see it that way. It was more a case of not telling the whole truth. He had left Oak Tree Bend, telling @Triell he would be back soon. That he was going to scout out the hunting grounds again. Partially, he had done what he had said … and yet, he had decided to move on.

And so, now that he stood on another pack's doorstep, the young man howled, a long awoooo that rose in his pitch before trailing off. He called for Mercy. For Hypatia. For the Glen wolves. His obliviousness to their current states—missing—would hold potential dangers for him. Harsh words, snapping jaws from distraught parents … and yet, he knew nothing of that. All he knew—or rather, what he thought he knew—was that here was where he would find the other wolves of his age. That perhaps, just maybe, they would be content to talk to him. As much as he loved his brother @Serach, the younger of the twins felt a strange desire to socialise with others, now that he had met them.

A wolf's approach was not lost on Sceral, and he lowered himself respectfully, tail curling between his legs. He commanded an air of strength and respected. His coat was a brilliant white, almost pure and lacking any blemishes. His eyes were deep, rich and fiery. Just like hers. He bit his tongue; at least Hypatia had her parents, right? When Sceral spied to flash of off-white teeth, a glimpse of the gum line, the Oak boy couldn't help but wonder if he had made a grave mistake. Not every Glen wolf would be like the one he had met not too long ago—soft and sympathetic. He remembered that ugly, scarred brute from when he and Serach had been mere whelps. He didn't recall the specific details of it, just that the black Magnolia Glen male had been large and intimidating.

The adolescent was startled by the older male's words. Brave? “S-sorry?” He stuttered, blinking down at the man's paws. Sceral hadn't been informed of the brawl, of what happened in the hills. Hell, he didn't even know that Oak Tree Bend and Magnolia Glen weren't on friendly terms. Ignorance, on his part. Or perhaps obliviousness. This wasn't the smooth start he had hoped for. But now? He had an inkling that perhaps something wasn't sitting right between the neighbouring packs. “I, uhm, didn't mean to come across as cocky, sir,” the yearling's tongue flicked out against his lip nervously, “I was just wonderin' if @Hypatia or Mercy were about?”

His eyes darted away, briefly, from the ivory paws that belonged to the wolf who clearly stood as leader of this land. “'m Sceral. They're … well … we're friends.” That might not sit well with the king he knelt before. “I mean, well, I consider us as such,” he hurried to add. He couldn't help his tongue once again peeking from between his dark lips. “'m sorry if I'm intrudin'. Sir.” A whine of nervousness bubbled in his throat, but he swallowed it down.

"Mercy is gone."

Sceral's mouth fell open, his brow furrowing as he stared down at the ground. Gone. Just like that, as if he were never even here. Well, he must've looked like a god damn idiot now, huh? At the border of a pack that wasn't on friendly terms with his own (not that he knew that) asking for an abandoner. Strange, really. Sceral thought of the salt and pepper wolf as the loyal kind. It seemed his assumptions and deductions were entirely wrong then.

"I-I'm sorry, sir, I didn't kno-," the Donata tried desperately to explain himself, yet the pale regal before him continued on. He questioned what exactly he wanted with Hypatia, his daughter. He swallowed thickly, tongue flicking out for what felt like the millionth time to flick at his own lip and nose nervously. "I just wanted to see how she was. I haven't seen her for a long time. I mi-." Cut off again. This time, by a softer voice; a feminine voice. Hypatia was here. She'd come to his call. Thank God her words and arrival had stopped him from finishing his sentence.

His nerves just seemed to shrink back somewhat in her presence, his eyes closing momentarily as he thanked the stars that she had come before things could have gotten any awkwarder between himself and her dad. "Hypatia," he smiled, "yeah, everything's fine. I just, uh ... I wanted to know how you were? If ... if we could talk. Or something." He tried to catch her eye but found that his gaze remained down at his paws, gaze dancing between those that belonged to the leader and the princess of Magnolia Glen. I've been thinking about you a lot for a while.