It was rather quiet for a while, Kismet assumed that he had managed to find a path that the pack didn't use all that often. To be honest unless they were leaving the island or waiting for someone to return he couldn't see too much use in standing at the edge of it. Even his mind began to grow bored, try as it might it couldn't really recall those glimpses he'd had of Vericona Plains to try to build any sort of image for the rest of Alacritis. He'd just have to wait and see it for himself one day.
He was about to step back from the water when he heard a voice; ?It?s a long swim for small legs.? Head turned first now, body following it as he shifted to face the wolf that had approached him and was now sitting at his side. A little older now he was paying more attention to scents beyond whether they were interesting or not, starting to get the hang of the fact that they could be useful. His scent was familiar, not simply because of the pack though because he'd smelt it upon his mother. The man in fact was also mixed with Azalea's, they had to be friends maybe even best friends. Vahva had taught him about that concept, but so young the topic of mates hadn't been discussed.
"I know." Kismet responded simply, no worry in his voice sure that this man wasn't any harm to him. Not that he had experienced any harm of course, a few things had worried the boy but the fellow wolves he'd met from his pack certainly hadn't been one of them. "I wasn't going to try."
His gaze shifted to the water once more lingering for a moment before looking back to Sarak, a question now formed in his mind. "What's it like? The other land on the other side of the water."
