The hardest learned lessons

Alastor had been greatly crestfallen to learn that Scylla had left Elysium. His heart held a soft spot for the Klein fae, caring for her like she were his own flesh and blood in many ways and in other wholly different ways as well. Maybe that was because he had seen some of his younger self in Scylla. Maybe it was because the broken old brute gave a damn about the wolves whose fathers had abandoned them or left them to fend for themselves. Whatever the reason, Alastor had done it twice now—once with Ikigai and again with Scylla. Granted, his relationship with Scylla had been far more primal, but that didn't stop him from wanting the best for the slate and cream fae. So when Saracyn had informed him of Scylla's departure and the guilt he carried over being the reason she left, Alastor knew he had to go find her, if for no other reason than to make sure she was okay.

Despite his age, Alastor was an accomplished hunting guru. He could track a prey animal down for over two territories and had keen senses honed for picking up on trails and tracks. This included tracking down wolves. There was only one direct route off of Alias Island, so Al started there, following the mainland coast until he'd found any trace of Scylla Klein. With her scent in his memory and his nares, the behemoth of a brute stalked her trail across eastern Boreas, picking up little clues here and there like torn down campsites and old abandoned dens she'd used. It was not a quick process, and Scylla had done a decent job trying to cover her tracks whenever she left somewhere she'd bedded down at. It was clear she was trying to not be found, and were he a less astute tracker, he probably would have lost her trail long ago. As it turned out, Alastor was still on the hunt, winding his way westward until he found a fresher trail and followed it past the rapids of Valta and down the waterfalls to the base of Mount Volkan, to the hot springs at the base of the volcano.

The stench of sulphur rising from the steam around the hot springs masked most of Scylla's scent, and every now and again Alastor would have to stop to recalibrate his nose before he could find her trail again. Eventually, the giant obsidian brute wandered out into the cluster of hot springs, looking about through the steam at each of the pools. Scylla's scent was strongest around here; he couldn't be too far behind her. Now he just had to find her... Alastor considered using the straightforward approach and just calling out for her, but on the chance that she didn't want to be found, he opted instead for the subtle approach, stalking around each of the steamy pools of water to see if he could spot her in any of them, moving like a living shadow amongst the humid mist.

"Alastor Mendacium"