Blacktail Deer Plateau reporting the patterns row by line

Sounds good to me!

Did every being have to have its own secret? Mordecai could not have agreed or disagreed; he simply didn't know. There were wolves that had their secrets no doubt, and this more than likely extended to other creatures as well. When it came to himself though, Mordecai didn't really think he had any secrets; perhaps the definition of secret was simply subjective by that regard. There were things he did not like talking about and would avoid politely one way or another, and those were the things that one may have been inclined to call a secret.

But he did not dwell on this for long, as the philosopher in Osprey brought another thing to his attention — prophecies. "Sometimes I wonder, to be honest," he said, finding this a much more familiar ground than ghosts and goblins. "I don't know if I believe that we all have pre-determined fates or not, but I think our fate is connected with our actions and the environment. Every action has a reaction, right?" He shrugged. "I think everyone makes their own kind of luck though, and sometimes we gamble with it." Any time he had left the creature comforts of a pack, he gambled with the possibility of some misfortune coming to him. Cara could have tried to tear his face off for turning up around the Spine, or Dante could have told him he had no room for those willing to move on at a whim. The desert of the south could have simply swallowed him whole in his youth.

"What do you think?" he decided to inquire, finding that even when it came to talk of things he had discussed before with others, Mordecai was relatively lacking in the eloquence department on it. Though he had his beliefs of things, they were scant and dusty; he was so very rooted to reality that leaving it had only came in brief glimpses or in dreams from deep sleep.