Mudminnow River we are the greatest pretenders

Likewise, Mordecai also wondered after the winter that was to come. Whether the sheer chill of the earth or the lacking prey would drive them to forego their logical decisions or not and envelop them deeper into something more feral would be discovered in a matter of time. There still remained the possibility that the world would keep its warmth through those sparse months, however, as it had the year before. The previous winter had made for easy travel and as it were, the autumn still clung to a welcoming warmth. He only hoped it would not be misleading.

Still, he took Scimitar's words with an understanding nod — the Grove alpha would not need to worry about Mordecai traversing and causing trouble. For the most part, this was something that he would pass along to the others, though for the time being he did not believe any within the Hollow to be willing to stir trouble. If anything, those were the kind he sought to keep out of their ranks.

"We've taken to calling the territory Lost Creek Hollow," he answered. "And I guess that's on account of the water sources. This river stretches down along part of our territory, in fact." He gestured out of habit, his own gaze cast back out over the path from which he had come. "What about yours?"

And once he and Scimitar had finished exchanging a bit of information, they went their separate ways.