Blacktail Deer Plateau the devil's bleeding crude oil from a hole in his chest

aw man why do i feel like the jerk here

And once in a while, these things turned south. Sometimes for the better, but often he found that they went for the worse. For every terse snippet of dialogue that followed thereafter, Mordecai felt himself hastily building a wall of stone, rising ever so slightly to the implications that came with it. Maybe implication wasn't quite the word for use either, it may as well have been an indirect accusation. The emphasis didn't need to be added where necessary, for Mordecai found it between the lines and the spark of ire that resided in the eyes of the gunmetal alpha.

It was enough to stir his own hot response, but fortunately his anger was tempered better than that. Instead of speaking, he let out a breath that was easily described as frustrated, but just as easily said to be one that he didn't know that he was holding at all. "I didn't inform you because I didn't know where I stood," he said after a pause drug out a little too long. Dante's words were revelation to things that did not surprise him, that Harlyn had roped Luke in perhaps longer than she had himself. He couldn't have said for certain, but it was no doubt the center of unease now. This was not how he wanted things to go.

But then when had anything ever been apart of a plan, let alone followed it?

"And now with this threat to the south, and all that's gone on... Dante, I just want no part of it. This place has been my home for quite a while now, but the unrest here is clear. It's time to move on." Yeah, that was going to go over real well.