Lost Creek Hollow blackbird song is over now

His ears splayed to their respective sides when she chose to return the meat, and a quizzical expression cut through the stoicism that had long become his mask. It did not last, for when she spoke his brow furrowed—at least as best as a wolf could manage, perhaps—and a darkness of a sort bloomed in his solitary gaze. It may as well have been a painful reminder of how Luke had come to him when he had been the one lying battered and he could not help but spare a passing wonder of how strange it felt to be once again on the receiving end of such an emotion.

But it too passed and quickly, nary a second wasted as he shook his head. "No, you need your strength." Mordecai could also not help but consider the possibility that maybe the aboriginal she-wolf did not understand, but it was too quickly discarded; her body language, her tone, even the palpable emotion was crystal clear.

"The meat will help, like the herbs," he went on, as though it needed trying again.