Big Salmon Lake 'cause it's home, but it's gone

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Rannoch comes to halt before him and Mato’s verdant gaze takes in the stalwart leader with muted inquisitiveness and thinks to himself that he and Cypress are so very disparate. The wild furred raven is brooding and austere but Rannoch is not; or if he is Mato has yet to see him be so. Thus the empyrean is left to compare them to night and day. Despite Cypress’ despondency Mato finds that there is a seedling of fondness within him for Cypress beneath the comradeship forged between them by the nexus that was the juvenile gang and the pack they were to become. Mato hears the authenticity in Rannoch’s question, truly wishing to know how he settles. The druid takes a moment of consideration to think his answer through despite that it did not come unexpected. There were makings of familiarity in their loose structure but as they are not yet formed he has yet to see how it will unfold. Despite this uncertainty, he is auspicious. The tree is solid — it only needs a place to lay it’s roots so they can settle in deep without unwanted intrusions. “I am settling in well, thank you.” The druid replies candidly. He misses his family, it is true, and the first night spent away from them was particularly arduous but each night that comes is measurably easier than the first. He misses them but he is not home sick. Going with these other juveniles feels right and Mato listens to his intuition, recognizing that it is by far the strongest sense he has.

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