Lion Head Mesa Canis Major, Canis Minor, Canis... Mediocris?

The silent hybrid's presence remained unnoticed by the boy, his attention being occupied solely by Cicero. He could not get over the fact that the other had never returned, though it was soon revealed that that hadn't been the case at all. The marbled wolf had returned, but it must have been only after the younger had already taken his leave. They'd missed one another, it seemed, though by how long was not known. Despite having made such a crass accusation, no remorse was felt. He'd been fueled by the moment, by the hurt and fear he'd felt after having been poisoned, and so the notion of apologizing was lost on him. The only word that had managed to slip from his tongue was a toneless, "Oh." Afterwards, he'd fallen silent, but it was only for a moment before he'd needed to speak once again.

"So the bad guy got away..." he'd concluded, more so to himself that the other. It wasn't the best of news—honestly, it wasn't anywhere near good—but it was something he'd decided he would probably have to live with. If the stranger hadn't been able to find the criminal back when the trail was still fresh, then his chances of doing so in the present were nonexistent. Whoever, or whatever, had laced the rabbit was probably long gone, and it seemed as if they'd be getting away with their awful act. "I didn't wait for very long..." he'd then admitted. "At least, not as long as I guess I should have." If only he'd waited for a while longer, perhaps Cicero would have returned to him, and then the two would have been able to search together.