Hushed Willows Your lizard king has spoken (all hail)

The howl roused him from his thoughts, lending him pause along a trail that was far from recognizable and at worst, not quite lush enough to leave him with a sense of disorientation. It had been a slow integration, having to once more learn the ins and outs of a territory. Far too long Mordecai had been content with being and outlier. It had been fine when he was more certain of his own place within a pack, but aside from his own kin this was a new beast yet to be tamed.

He had been reined in on what all had transpired—Warbone's disappearance, the change-up in leadership—and was able to draw his own conclusions. Experience supplied the answers to the blanks he may have had, as he had once found himself in the position that he imagined Tavi in now. Harlyn too, for that matter. So when those summons had come to an end, he had already set off at a leisure pace to match the sweltering air.

Before too long, the wolves of the Keep came into his sight. He spied the dark flank of Stark first, though it was the honeyed tail swing of Larkspur that drew him in. She was with Harlyn and primarily that was where he sought to be in their gathering. He was not surprised to find Trick already among the congregation and beyond him, he found Shikoba tucked away. He offered a wordless greeting to the bulk of them, nothing more than a tail wag and a thin smile as he opted to pick his own place to settle in along his family.