Lost Creek Hollow hollow stone

— open for anyone; tags are for visibility, don't feel obligated to join!

By the time midday had rolled around, the scenery hadn't changed much from the morning.  The frost turned fog along the thinning edges of the Hollow, and the icy tendrils belong to none other than the hand of winter still raked their way through the winding and varied wood.  Mordecai had kept an even pace along the ruddy border, ever aware of the sound of water that babbled on his blind side.  It was somewhere off in the distance at that point, almost behind him as their border curved lazily back toward itself.

And for the most part, it had been an uneventful patrol.  He deemed it better that way, not entirely willing to deal with the wolves that were bound to come calling at their proverbial doorstep as the cold air turned colder.  Even with Luke returned to their fold, he knew their numbers had taken a hit.  Whether or not it was associated with the fact that two of them had been attacked by a rouge feline was anyone's guess, and Mordecai felt it was most likely the culprit to their diminished count.

As he rounded past a thick tree, he paused to hike his leg and briefly mark it.  Others had been through to maintain it, but he made it a point to assert himself as apart of their efforts where he could.  No doubt @Ancalagon had come by; he could smell where he had been, where the earth had been raked not too far beyond that.  There were others, but he could not distinguish whether or not they belonged entirely to @Ilya or @Root.  They were simply female and of course beneath that, he knew Harlyn had been through some time ago.

Not now, he hoped.  She had done her wandering but he felt they were becoming less and less frequent.  Her own restlessness had its limits and if it meant anything to him, he was becoming increasingly certain that her time was near.  It mattered not to him whether or not they discovered hopeful dispersers along those borders because their numbers would grow soon; the only thing that mattered to him was that the weather would be willing to warm before that event came.  He pressed on silently, breathing out a strong plume that could have only been a suggestion to the heavy thoughts that weighed in.

agalloch — hollow stone