Lost Creek Hollow a sanguine fog

When it came to most things, Mordecai did not hold all the cards. What ones he did have he was able to construe some sort of reasoning for any number of given situations. But this was one that he did not feel comfortable making such an assumption and rightly so, may as well have put those cards face down on some metaphorical table. He shuffled in a few steps closer to Luke as some of the tension in the air between them eased, but again did not reach out to console him as he may have another time. There was just something off that told him not to, though he could scarcely put a finger to its origins.

"That's good, I'm glad," he answered. His lips turned upward briefly, but it too was a fleeting gesture. "Guess that means you'll be back up to speed in no time, right? Seems like that oversized cat can't keep us all down for long." He tried for humor, though for all he knew it would be salt into some wound. It was for him, admittedly, but there was not much he could do about that. They couldn't turn back the clock.