Lost Creek Hollow we would only hold on to let go

"That's good," Bhreac said, nodding. Mordecai's words weren't entirely comforting — although she supposed it was better for him to be honest than to tell her what she wanted to hear — but it was good to see that he didn't seem particularly worried about it. Resources seemed more plentiful here; there was more grass for prey to eat, more woods in which prey could hide. She hadn't explored terribly far, yet, but it wasn't as dry and sparse as where she'd come from, so perhaps that had been the problem.

The world was large and varied and filled with strange faces who'd lived lives she knew nothing about. It was an obvious thing, but still a fact that hadn't really occurred to her, in the insulated bubble of her family. She would simply have to get used to it, after she took time to understand it.

"Is your group many?" Bhreac asked. She was appeased somewhat, but worried still that if they were too few, they'd be vulnerable. She decided in that moment that — assuming Mordecai didn't find her questions so irritating he had to get rid of her — if she were to be part of this pack, she'd have to devote time to figuring out how to protect it. She wouldn't lose a family again.