Lost Creek Hollow a sanguine fog

His was not a lengthy search to discover his blue-nosed friend. Though admittedly, Mordecai almost did not pick up on his snowy coat in the low light; the general lack of perception his one remaining eye offered was to thank for that. It was the movement, that volume speaking recoil and pulling away into the scenery that tipped him off. Otherwise, Mordecai would have paced on much further before discovering him.

The instantaneous wave of his tail stilled at the sight midair, only completing the wave to hang limply at his hocks as he closed in the distance between them. With a modicum of sense to respect whatever personal boundaries they had came his halt, and the cant of his head turned to one of concern. "You doing okay?" he asked. It seemed a pointless question to ask when he could tell that there was something that bothered Luke. But Luke had also been bothered for longer than that, stemming far further than the injures that rested on his — and from what Mordecai could tell — healing frame.

After all, the cougar had gotten a hold of him too.

And there was the matter of their conversation leading up to that, which rested at the back of his mind.