Blackfoot Forest the woods are lonely, dark, and deep

Her question brought things suddenly into focus. It brought them so into focus that Mordecai found himself amused with the premise of her interest. But the comical tilt of her head and that urging look of interest made it difficult for him to grapple with responses. He wanted to laugh a bit, not so much at her question, but at the way she had brought it to him. Mordecai had met his fair share of wolves very similar to Tonravik, but she was perhaps the most insistent of them. Perhaps even the last of them to resort to tearing after him for not grasping the bigger picture.

But Mordecai was never one for the bigger picture, or the finer details. He sat somewhere in between instead.

"I doubt it," he answered her with a roll of his furry shoulders. Mordecai did not see himself willingly branching out even with the spring upon them. He had entertained the thought before, but found his interests were more in repaying the debt he felt owe Dante for the time being. After all, he had been something of a ghost at the Plateau, or at least that was how he felt. Instead of his words hanging in the air, he played devil's advocate to himself for a moment. "Why do you ask? Are you suggesting that you'd follow me?" It was a sterling pearl of arrogance on his part, but he did not betray that he was humored by her question.