"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"Just... I don't know," he faltered, taking the snow on the ground to his hands and molding it to a round shape, "He went missing. Do you remember when I said that my mother died of an illness?" he asked, and I nodded almost immediately. "A few days after she passed, my father was nowhere to be seen. He left everything behind without saying any words to the pack. His title, his belongings, his son."
While he was talking, I noticed the hint of sadness in his red eyes. I could see it clearly in his eyes—the fact that he did not despise his father but longed for him. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue his story.
