Lost Creek Hollow cause the best part is falling.

He joined her, settling back onto his haunches as she spoke. What all Harlyn believed in, Mordecai could not have said he had a clue about. But he did not question it or discard it, instead feeling that if she believed all was up to fate and higher powers, then all the more power to it. Sometimes they all needed something else to put a little faith into, he supposed.

"Is that so," he rejoined good-natured. It was idle chatter for him; truthfully Mordecai did not have words to supply to draw up a foundation of dialogue. He blamed it on the rush of things, the tiresome feeling that came to him now that he had chosen to stop moving for just a moment. They had been busy, but all in good spirits. "There's a few herds outside the lands at the moment. Might be worth keeping an eye on if no one gives them chase." He had reasons to believe that they were not entirely alone in their neck of woods, so to speak, but nothing had given him concrete evidence yet. Sure, there had been long calls during the night, but how close they were was hard to tell. It could have just been a band of travelers. It could have been another pack. Mordecai did not dispute either option at all.