Silvertip Mountain the halo was a smoke ring

It's good to be back. I've missed RP in general over the last couple of years.

He could have sworn that he felt the shaman's gaze linger over him. Something in that harden, glazed sensory was palpable, though Mordecai made certain to steer clear of that wandering look. He busied himself the overriding curiosity of studying that wound until he had ascertained that nothing of particular use could be done with it. It was healing, hopefully not infected, and it seemed that his newfound companion was able to tolerate moving it about. However uneasy it was, of course. As he was joined in the warm sunlight, Mordecai briefly drew his gaze to the then reclining canine.

Yes, he was Mordecai; he gave an approving noise to confirm his identity. “I'm beginning to settle in just fine. I'm glad I took up Jinx's offer so far.” Of all the places he had been, he could say that he never thought to see himself residing on a mountain. Especially one that still retained its snowy peak even that late in the year. “I don't believe I recall your name though, but I've noticed you about.” And when it came to noticing, it was only his gesture that he had scented him long before their last encounter. There hadn't been much time for introductions at the meeting where they had crossed paths before. Mordecai knew he was undeniably close to Jinx, one way or another.