Otter Creek of an austere ebon tide

It was perhaps far too easy to become complacent at times with one's surroundings. This was the case for Mordecai, who at first was caught off guard by the call. He paused swiftly and turned to meet the source of the sound, already drawing in a breath to pull whatever scent he could to him. This fellow did not smell of Jinx or her band from the now distant mountains to his west, but there was a mottled sort of smell that came forth. The creek served as a natural damper, but Mordecai had little doubt that he had been pegged as unfamiliar.

Still, he returned the woof with a good natured one of his own, drawing his tail up behind him in a wave. Encouragement perhaps, to see how his summoner would deal with having to come to him, as he did not move to close their gap. From that distance though, Mordecai could see the icy touch of his blue eyes, and took note of his attended, fair-haired coat. He could have been a pale blonde, or a tan, but definitely not a dirty white. If anything, they seemed about on par each other, one of them being a traveler and the other having the air of establishment. Or so he thought, unknowing that this counterpart was freshly re-homed.