Apollo had taken the time to rest after his long journey, but it was time now for him to take up duties within the familial structure. He knew little of the surrounding lands and inhabitants for himself, only what little his siblings had been able to impart to him of their own knowledge. He would need to begin to range around the canyon, both patrolling for dangers towards his family and acquainting himself with the area. With the southern continent's dry season threatening to settle in any day now Apollo was making it a point to keep most of his scouting forays to the night and twilight hours to avoid the growing heat. Even with the pale coat he bore rather than the dark coats of his littermates, it was still going to take some getting used to.

Perched on a crumbling stone wall that threatened to crumble further beneath his weight, Apollo was allowing his sun-gold gaze to sweep over the tangle of herb beds without focusing on any one thing, the drifting gaze seeking only what hadn't been there at the last sweep, or for movement, or simply anything out of place. This was the sort of sentry duty he might normally have placed himself in on his family's home turf when he wasn't actively patrolling along the borders, rather than when he was out on a wide patrol, but he was taking a break from his path for the moment and saw no reason to allow himself to be taken by surprise while he rested.

As was his habit the phantom held himself almost militaristically straight, his bearing like that of a long-time general's aide. Shoulders and paws squared with precision, chin up and tail tucked out of the way, his eyes cool and distant with his proper dignity. Even with the faint breeze to tug at his coat, it seemed as though every hair was precisely in its place and neatly groomed. His was the appearance of a proper military gentleman, and there was no mistaking that.

A wayward heart and mind had lead the aging man south. Soon Mara and Ruthger's son's would be a year old. Goodness how time flew. The militant brute pressed on, silver gaze thoughtful. He still had that feeling of longing, wondering if he truly had sired any litters in his youth. Did he have children out there? Probably... And what if the brother he'd left within their old pack? Was he gone now? The thought didn't move Felicien as much as it might a softer wolf. They lived. They died. He could only hope that it had been on the field of battle that his brother had fallen.

His ears were perked, intently focusing on his surroundings. It was rare, incredibly rare to sneak up on the man. But Felicien was braced for such a thing. The boys had been training well.... Wouldn't surprise him if one day they snuck up on him. But perhaps it was too soon to think that way. They still had some naivety to grow out of.

A scent hit him as the wind shifted and Felicien shifted his gaze in the direction of a stranger. Resting upon a stone wall was a wolf whom immediately caught his attention. Not romantically, mind you, but in fascination. The way the other held himself... There was no mistaking the discipline of a warrior. He tipped his head to the other wolf, certain the other had noticed him as well. Though where this meeting was to go was yet to be seen.

Movement in his peripheral pulled his attention to one spot, head swiveling just slightly to allow him to focus on the change. A battlescarred wolf stood there suddenly, of a size and coloration that could have suggested Abraxas lineage had Apollo not known better. Moon-gray eyes met sun-gold and the male's head tilted in greeting. Apollo returned the nod curtly, but did not leap down from his vantage point to approach as might have been more polite. He did not intend to give up any advantage he might hold over a stranger until he learned if it intended hostility, and a wolf as heavily scarred as this had surely seen a great deal of battle. Whether the scarring would prove to mean that the beast was a great warrior, or simply one who had lost a lot of fights, remained to be seen, and until he knew he would be cautious. And after.

"Good evening," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying easily the distance between the two wolves.