Lost Creek Hollow a sanguine fog

As Luke excused himself, Mordecai almost called it to a halt. His mouth opened as though to say something, but instead slowly closed as his beta rose to leave him. As though a certain weariness had embodied him, Mordecai decided that it was perhaps best to leave his news for another day, rather than add it to the stress and strain that still so evidently plagued his friend.

He lingered long enough to see him off, careful to note the way he went. Perhaps he would seek him out another day, maybe even tomorrow. Perhaps then, he would bring him something to lift his spirits ever so slightly and maybe bit by bit, recapture the mirth he had hoped to find coming back. Instead he turned his attention to his original task — finding that morsel of food that would permit him entrance back into the den, to be with Harlyn and their children.