Lost Creek Hollow a lonesome star in a bitter sky

*insert obnoxious cat lying across arms for this post*

If there was perhaps one thing that he would hear clearly, it was her murmured voice telling him that she loved him. He had no doubts of that; her actions had spoken loud and clear to him where he lacked in words. It wasn't a difficult thing to repeat, no, but he hadn't. Instead he had led his actions speak for him over time, as he had been keen to follow her and the dreams that she had, and had not been inclined to leave her side since. He had opted to settle and this situation was just one of many probable events that could happen to any of them. Yet before he could nudge her reassuringly, she had spirited away into the darkness.

So he drifted instead, entangled in the threads of consciousness by a throbbing shoulder and a searing head wound that seemed to go much further than his head really was. Keeping himself calm was a bit easier away from the scene of his feline altercation, but Mordecai still felt the press of worry in his body as though it could prompt him to rise up and suss out the feline. If anything he presumed it was long gone, off somewhere to nurse its wounds. It had probably caught up with that coyote, keen on a meal that wouldn't fight it like a wolf pack would.

His working eye was half-lidded in thought when Harlyn came to return, and opened fully on fact that she startled him. But recognition struck in the next moment and he found himself trying to greet her with the reassurance he did not get to in time; his tail wagged wearily against the ground. He was still there, nothing bad had happened to him in her departure.