The notion that it had been days since he had left the coastline for the region beyond had begun to occur to him. Not that he particularly missed the finality of land, it was quite the opposite. Mordecai thrived in not being confined to just one path, but having the option of choosing many — something in which he did quite a lot of. Today's choices had led him further inland than previous attempts, and so far he hadn't seen anything or encountered anything extraordinary. He didn't expect to either, and simply reveled in the adventure he found himself partaking.

Some time ago he had found the start of the creek, and while he now lingered near the start of its most level flow, the distant trickle of its miniaturized waterfalls remained. If the tracks left behind in the soft soil meant anything, he knew he had come across yet another well trafficked area by the region's residents. This fact did not trouble him, as he found himself not minding any potential company; the gold-eyed Ostrega had yet to really come across anyone who was questionable in their intent. Fully, anyway. But there were bound to be that sort here too, if experience had any say in the general demographic. He could have fallen into the very category himself, being nothing more than a stray wandering the countryside and scavenging for this and that.

He was fine with this, too.

It was perhaps far too easy to become complacent at times with one's surroundings. This was the case for Mordecai, who at first was caught off guard by the call. He paused swiftly and turned to meet the source of the sound, already drawing in a breath to pull whatever scent he could to him. This fellow did not smell of Jinx or her band from the now distant mountains to his west, but there was a mottled sort of smell that came forth. The creek served as a natural damper, but Mordecai had little doubt that he had been pegged as unfamiliar.

Still, he returned the woof with a good natured one of his own, drawing his tail up behind him in a wave. Encouragement perhaps, to see how his summoner would deal with having to come to him, as he did not move to close their gap. From that distance though, Mordecai could see the icy touch of his blue eyes, and took note of his attended, fair-haired coat. He could have been a pale blonde, or a tan, but definitely not a dirty white. If anything, they seemed about on par each other, one of them being a traveler and the other having the air of establishment. Or so he thought, unknowing that this counterpart was freshly re-homed.

He watched with ease as the creme-coated male paused to gain his fill from the crisp creek water, only closing their gap by a few feet. A better conversation distance so they didn't have to go barking all over in the open was a bit more friendlier, and well, sometimes a drink came in handy. It was only a matter of a few good laps before the real question came up front. Some introduction, Mordecai mused. Not that he hadn't been flagged down and queried about his alliances before that was. This time it seemed well intended, the waves in their tails still ever present.

Nares flaring again, he drew in the air imperceptibly one last time. Nothing came to him out of the ordinary. “No,” he said, sounding almost wistful. It had been quite some time since Mordecai had found purpose in a pack. Despite inclination to be a social creature, he functioned moderately well on his own. Growing up in scrub lands had certainly lent him their perks. “And you are, I presume?” He mirrored the tilt that had been given to him, though his eyes lacked the curiosity in the question. He knew what the question was for, and wondered in which direction another pack in the region lied.

Survivor? Now there was a term he hadn't really thought applicable to himself. A thin smirk flashed briefly across his muzzle, and the rumble of his voice followed after it like a spring thunder. “Seems like there's plenty of us around here, with all of the packs.” It was nice of him to make the assumption that Mordecai was just a survivor, when the gold-eyed Ostrega thought of everyone as a survivor. Another winter had come to pass, and he had come riding its coattails. He had no idea how harsh or kind the winter had been there, and he wasn't keen to find out just yet.

“So are you their recruiter then? Out here patrolling the busy areas looking for the rest of us?” This time he cued in his curiosity, being direct. Though he still felt as though he were passing through, he was technically a free agent, or the unfavorable threat. Still, knowledge of the Plateau brought his pack count to two, but he heard more calls day and night that said there were bound to be more. There were always bound to be more.

And it seemed that this Plateau leader didn't care for the company of others, at least from the outside. Mordecai was reminded of his father if only for a moment, but the similarity stopped just as it had started. Where he had come from, sometimes it was better not to get involved, and the reasons therein varied greatly. “Could be a smart move on his part, if things aren't so stable here.” It wouldn't have surprised him if one pack wasn't rallying against another one already, especially with the arrival of youth both their own and of their prey. But his commentary was also an unasked question that he kept to himself.

In their conversation, his eyes wandered briefly to their surroundings as nothing more than a passive check. It seemed he would not be anticipating any other arrival to their conversation. Perhaps they weren't as close to the Plateau as he would have anticipated, even with the distinct curvature peering through the forests between. Mordecai focused in on the last tidbit revealed to him then, bringing his gaze back to the watery hue of his temporary companion. “If your leader frowns on socializing outside parties, what brings you out here?” Maybe the Plateau was incredibly boring, or maybe this new found Plateau dweller still had a little desire to wander left in him.

Though he hadn't asked the question, he found the answer to it in the response he was given. It was good that the packs seemed neutral with one another, at least for the time being. Even if he could handle himself, Mordecai didn't purposely put himself in the way of harm if he could help it. With no pack to back him up, he knew the likelihood of finding help in the bout of an injury was even more unlikely. Most packs were tight-knit communities on their own, and in the position where more than one was common, their resources were more often strained than shared.

That said, there was something smug in the wording that explained what his companion was doing out there. It sounded sour, and left a sour taste in his mouth at that. Mordecai wasn't sure whether or not this particular fellow was that fresh off the boat to feel that way, so to speak. Maybe he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed either, but that road could have gone both ways. Still, he played the hand of assumption like a veteran baccarat player, and bet on the banker. “So you're using them then? Not like a wolf to go against his ideals,” he said as though he could really back up the claim. He tried to sound curious, but the sourness he acquired trickled through. But if there was a lack of devotion towards the pack he had joined up with, Mordecai hardly saw a reason to be there. No pack existed without the loyalty of others, and that required a certain degree of similar devotion.

While he had been hoping the loose statements made were nothing more than a faux pas, they weren't. The honesty that followed his queries surprised him, jarring his moral compass a little bit like an anomaly. He had seen this behavior before by the ones in charge, but never in a subordinate. But Mordecai supposed everyone had an agenda at one point or another, and shook his head dismissively. The arrogance displayed aside, the tawny Ostrega already knew that they would agree to disagree in this case.

“Then why not stay in the wilds? You seem like you'd be better suited to being on your own than trying to find opportunities in a pack.” And truthfully there were more opportunities outside of a pack than in, at least in his eyes. Not that there weren't any in them either, they were just a different set of options. Perhaps he knew the answer as to why this fellow had gone to a pack too, knowing that there were advantages to belonging to somewhere versus nowhere at all. Maybe the opportunity he was willing to seize was within that pack too.

Whatever the case, Mordecai was pleased that his questionnaire had yet to aggravate. The brief enjoyment he had found simmering in the azure gaze had dimmed some, and his demeanor seemed to slip into ease. While they were still on an uncomfortable topic, Mordecai was given the insight as to what might have brought his fellow canine to a pack and to a degree, could relate. For the same reason they came upon each other, they were social creatures at their very core, and for more than just mentality. It was all about survival.

“Bored? Can't say I'm familiar with the feeling. I guess I've always kept myself busy. Guess it comes with the territory of being a survivor,” he quipped, once again making his own dig at the label. A toothy smile flickered briefly to his face, partially in response to his comment, but also at the wonder of what it would be like to truly be bored of something. He had tired of things, sure, but he had never really been driven to sheer lack of enjoyment. The world was his oyster, or something along those lines. In that regard they may have been similar, but also very different. He took no offense, all the same.

“Perhaps you'll find a reason to stick around that Plateau in time,” he suggested.

Mordecai wouldn't deny that there were tedious parts to being on his own. It was one of the things he had trouble with at the start, but he had managed to keep himself going. Sure, he might have been a little thinned out from the winter, a little weary seeming at the edges, but he still had his youth on his side. And it wasn't like he hadn't stopped here or there or rendered himself useful to a pack in exchange for a little rest and recuperation. At that moment, he didn't know whether or not he would find himself staying in the Wilds or not.

“Just give it a chance, you might be surprised. And if not, well, then you can't say you didn't try.” That was all they could really do, he supposed. Give it a decent effort and see what results were brewed up. If nothing really happened, or if it fizzled out, then at least the option was explored, right? He rolled his shoulder in a shrug to punctuate it all. “I won't be the last one to say that everywhere is perfect anyway. I think most of us answer the call we think is made for us and sometimes it just isn't what it seems when you get there.”

For reasons that Mordecai doubted he would find himself explaining at that point in time, the words spoken by the creme Plateau wolf hit home for him. He was taken with his own memories for a moment that he missed any signal that would have attempted to cue him in on the other's envy. It left him with a homesickness in his gut for a moment, but he was headstrong enough to will it away. It had been too long, and Mordecai far too gone to turn around from what he had been so resolute to do for the majority of his life.

But truth be told, Mordecai wasn't sure if he had answered the call he spoke of either. Sure, it could have been construed that in his very genetics was that nomadic presence that guided him. But it wasn't simply that way, Mordecai had made the decisions that had brought him right there today. He went to seize a prize that he hadn't just seen yet. “And there are those who don't, and aren't,” he said, again with the same nonchalant behavior as before. “Those things shape us, but we define who we are. At least that's what I was always told.” He wasn't nearly as rowdy as he had been in his youth. He didn't evade the thought of conforming as much as he did either, and maybe that was why he found himself there in the first place.

Again they differed in opinion, but Mordecai could see why. This was a very instance of what he had been told time and time again growing up. They had been raised differently, and in turn had formed vastly different views of the world around them. He didn't know enough about the other to attempt to coax him to think differently, so he respected the point of view with a soft nod. There was truth in his statements too, even if the definitive parts were subject to change.

“Too bad we can't change everything about ourselves, though,” he said then, “because I've always wondered what it would be like to grow a pair of wings and fly over everything.” A thin smile spread his face then, the humor marching forth out of their conversation. His attempt to steer them out of a dark gully better left alone, and perhaps better left to uninterrupted thoughts. “I do have to admit I didn't have you pegged as a philosopher. You have an interesting take of the world, friend.” And sure, they weren't really friends, but it was an easy substitute for the fact that they hadn't introduced themselves.

After a few more minutes of banter between them, Mordecai bade farewell to the Plateau wolf.