Lost Creek Hollow we swore we knew the future

He was silent through the former portion of Luke's commentary. Whatever knack others thought he carried for leadership was lost on him. He had placed stock in it once before but had cast that title aside far easier than he could have. To him, it was Harlyn who was certainly the leader of their collective foundation — he merely supported it.

However, what did interest him was the attention that Luke gave to the pack thus far. Stocking of caches, the scouting and surveying of their neighbors; all of that was good. Very good. Mordecai had been meaning to stretch his legs and make the journey southwest, but had focused his efforts on the pack instead. As Luke's words tapered off, he nodded with clear appeasement.

"That's good. One less thing for us to worry about come winter, I reckon." He didn't even want to consider what winter would bring to them, though if the previous winter was anything like the coming winter, then those worries would simply be a preparing instinct. "I recently met the leader of the pack to our northeast. He seems like a level-headed fellow. As long as we respect their boundaries they'll respect ours," or it was something like that. That was much as Mordecai knew to infer from their conversation. "So I don't foresee any problems there either. We're lucky in that regard," he added on as an afterthought.

Of course, that all depended on whether or not winter changed them.