October 13th; Late Afternoon; Partly cloudy; 32 ° F, 0 ° C.
Niles had tried to stick around, but the boy in his adolescence had grown restless, loath to stay in one place for too long. Angier knew that this sense of wanderlust would fade eventually. Niles was a Lyall after all; and, a male one to boot. He could not be blamed for wanting to leave his blind, arthritis-plagued father at the first place they had ever truly called home. Angier was certain that the yearling would return when he was ready. After all that time spent beyond Willow Ridge, under the open sky and beyond Relic Lore, they had shared many a story, an experience, and knowledge that would last a lifetime yet.
It was with a bittersweet note that Angier softly whined, feeling his last-born pull slowly... definitely and decidedly... away from him. "'Ey," he half-wheezed, the corners of his mouth turning up in a strained smile. His ears came up, certain that the lad's attention had fixated on him. "Love ya, kiddo." It was a wordless goodbye; coming from Niles there could have been nothing else - most especially nothing more and nothing less. The patriarch stared and stared into the distance, unable to see if his son had truly gone.
For several moments, he waited, but those footsteps never stopped. They neither approached nor circled around. Niles was gone and would be for the time being. In the meantime, Angier cautiously turned about, testing the air before setting his nose to the ground. There were wolves here, he deduced, though whether they were the ones he wanted to meet, he was only partially certain. Ever so slowly, he felt his way forward, using the bare willow vines and unearthed willow roots for guidance. When he had come to rest, he sat down beneath what should have been a very familiar tree. Some time ago, he might have seen how well-marked its bark had been, saw how it's umbrella-like formation was no different from the other willows of the world, but noticed its distance from the rest of the characteristic trees that made up the Droping Willows.
"Should be close," he whispered under his breath. His rump lowered to the ground and his head bowed down as his eyes closed. He thought to curse Niles for just giving him instructions on how to find his way back to the borders, but knew better than to take for granted what his son had done for him. Their failed trip to find Renegades Reach - or even Torbine - had been naught, and all the was left was to come back to Willow Ridge. He dug his nails into the cool ground, feeling the dry grass underfoot crinkle and crunch before he stood up again. If he had been able to navigate his was back, he might have, but all he could manage was a modest howl, hoping his mate or his daughter might come to retrieve him, "@Elettra? El?" A cough interrupted his call and he took several moments to refill his lungs and clear his throat, his daughter's name emitting from him in something a little more than a rasp on his vocal chords, "Ravenna?"