Blacktail Deer Plateau in hearts we are guaranteed a victory

im back e___e sorry for being such a ghost
also sorry i ramble about finn's momma, char development is slow and i figured i'd fire it up heh -- ignore all that if you want

Almost instantly, the fast rank-climbing stranger became a stranger no more.
 With a small, uniterested even, response the two were now aqcuaintained with one another. Ah, just in time for Dante to see. With a quick turn of his head and a slightly more enthusiastic woof (as enthusiastic as a grieveing man could muster) he greeted his greyscale friend, allowing himself to shuffle to the side to allow the man room to join the so-far stale conversation. 

But Dante did not come alone.
Like a couple of innocent lambs marching behind their shepherd, two females whose identities were ignored came into the scene, their body showing their disposition and eagerness to take part in the hunt. With a simple chuff, not directed at any one of them in particular, Finn awknowledged their presence. After that, all his attention was pretty directed at the brief ground plan Mordecai had to lay before the movement began. 
As a titled, yet not seasoned, Gamekeeper himself the Ollivander did not find pertinent to make further suggestions to the tawny male's plan.
It sounded fine, but as he had painfully recently learnt, words could be treacherous.
The messanger, the bastard that had come to deliver perheaps the most painful news, had said -- assured even-- that in her death bed, his mother had not suffered.
How could she not?
Since the day Finn had rebelliously taken the decision to leave them all behind to eat the dust of his wanderlust, his mother had been caught in a perpetual state of agony.
She had suffered.

Again, the thoughts of the recent ocurrences in his personal life began to smother his mind, making him feel like again his nose was going underneath the surface, leaving him breathless and choking until he, painfully yet brusquely kicked the image of his dear mother out his head. 
Though Finn was not one to usually get engrossed by a particular subject or event, he had had a history of being pulled by the magnetism of certain events -- or individuals in said case.
But now, knowing better than to mourn the crude departure of women, he knew he could not remain stuck to the puzzle  that was the female enigma or death.

He needed to get up and get going.
So with his head nodding, despite his true lack of attention to the Ostrega's words, he flexed his muscles, signalling that he was ready to go whenever the cue was given.
He was ready for all.