Lost Creek Hollow hollow stone

Ultimately, he remained alone for scarcely more than a few minutes longer; Ancalagon's heeding call gathered him and moved him swiftly away from his thoughts. Mordecai came to a pause along the snowy trail, casting a look back to gaze upon his dark-haired subordinate as he made his approach; his acceptance of the yearling's company was met with a light wave of his tail. Though he had often prowled their borders solo, Mordecai was hardly one to not accept company. Perhaps if he had been fortunate some odd few weeks ago, he may have found himself with just a torn shoulder and two eyes. But this thought did not occur to him as he picked up his pace once again, presumably with Ancalagon.

"You've been busy, I see," he murmured thoughtfully, much lighter than he may have had been with the ambitious wolf. "Any problems today?" Of course, he also assumed that Ancalagon had been following in his wake along the borders — maybe he had, and maybe he hadn't, and either way the inquiry was a mere pull at what his companion had been up to. It was high time that he found himself integrating again with the wolves that made up their pack, and especially with the ones that Harlyn had taken in.