Hushed Willows by the color tv glow

He ventured by, oblivious, and carried on. But not too long.

Shortly thereafter, his steps carried him back to the most familiar of locales known—the cavern. It had some name to it, Harlyn had spoke it to him, but he had cared for it so little that he had simply remembered it for what it was. A gaping crevasse in which they surprisingly didn't have to sandwich and stack themselves to sleep. He snorted, clearing his senses long enough to force out the medley that was overlapping traces of this wolf and that wolf. The branch was left behind as he brought himself near to its entrance, though there was no reason to duck needlessly inside.

For a moment, a quirky smile found its way onto his face—he didn't blame her in the slightest for snoozing outside. It was his preference by a long shot, though depending on Harlyn (and the rest of the children by extension) he often surrendered his say in things. Already it seemed that far too much time had slipped away from them all; his children did not seem as small as they had been. But he did not dwell over the thought long, why waste more time? Reaching out to nudge her with his muzzle, Mordecai attempted to rouse her gently.