Lost Creek Hollow been a while since we met

Simultaneously the bark broke Lagon's focus upon his thoughts, alerted him to the fact that he wasn't as alone as he'd been moments before, and brought to his attention the fact that he'd been paying zero attention to his surroundings and that he'd gotten himself lost. Startled, he spun to face the source of the bark, pupils blown wide within their pools of mahogany red irises as he studied his companion, recognizing and accepting the dominate posture with one that was accordingly submissive. Smoky black ears slicked back to sheepishly rest at half mast atop his skull as he glimpsed at Mordecai like child caught stealing a treat from the cookie jar. Except, in reality, Lagon hadn't actually been doing anything wrong. Still, he shouldn't have allowed himself to be so flippant ...especially since it was his first day. Which meant any first impressions he made were likely the ones that were going to last.

Sveinx had told him once that first impressions meant everything — whether that was true or not (because until a few hours ago he'd had no cause to mind much about first impressions) Lagon supposed he was about to find out. “I'm sorry,” The dragon blurted out, just in case he was in the older man's way with his lollygagging about; or in case his lollygagging would earn him a reprimand of some sort. He didn't know the wolves of the Hollow well enough yet to be able to form a judgment either way. “I was attempting to learn the lay of the land but I started thinking about possible trades I could go for and basically ended up paying no attention and got a little lost, I guess.” Mordecai hadn't asked for an explanation (yet) but Lagon thought it was best to offer one, regardless. He was new to this “join a pack on your own” thing. He'd been born into Naga Veil Forest and in that respect he'd simply been grandfathered into everything.