Overture Downs It's Foregone

Their expressions mirrored one another, though that may have been atypical of all wolves. They were not widely expressive creatures to begin with, at least not in the physical, visible sense. His one eye lingered on the other for a good clip, though it was also swift to deviate to watch his footing along the icy stream. The last thing Mordecai wanted to do was prove himself foolish, though truthfully it had little to do with being foolish and more with not wanting to end up in the cold waters face first.

As neutrally set about them, he eased towards a more lax state with his tail left to swing unevenly at his hocks, an ear turned to catch the offer that seemingly followed their crossing paths. Mordecai's head lifted thoughtfully, though it came as a ploy to draw in the heady scent of others plucked from the coat of the other. Not an easy feat to do with the water to dampen their senses, but one far easier to do than venturing a guess. He belonged somewhere, or at least somewhere belonged to him. Mordecai likened their posturing to the latter and in a short span had a thoughtful reply to go with it.

"If you don't mind that I'm only tracking, then I don't mind the extra set of paws." It seemed a cheeky response, but that came naturally to him, as did the faint twist of his darkened lips into a brief smile. He had no intentions of hunting, at least not in that present moment. "I'm Mordecai, of the Hollow." And at the very least, if he were to gain a partner for the duration of some venture, introductions were to be had.