King Elk Forest they paint the world full of shadows

the conversation has tilted wildly out of control in delight's eyes - he could barely think of looking at mato, and now the morwinyon lobs him such a heavy question - though he supposes it is not without merit. for a moment he feels sheepish, silly for letting his little crush weigh so heavy on him when there's more important matters (and another part thrilled that mato values his opinion enough to ask him--). moon-sharp eyes linger on the god-creature nearby as he thinks, quiet. 

"i have been in the sweep a lot lately," he admits, "it seems more traveled - but how far east are you thinking?" delight is not a scout: he doesn't know what other packs lay claim and where, and he sort of enjoys their seclusion, as mato does. "we'd be leaving the king elk... though i suppose he won't care either way." 

the vailë pauses, letting his gaze slowly fall back on the silvery prince, contemplative. "i don't know either way," he says, hesitantly, "but winter's nearly here and - we probably shouldn't move with burke during the winter months, at least. and - i think you should talk to him about it, too." arthendal's old location is close-by, according to the elder - and he seems healthy enough but delight would be nervous to try and move far once the snow starts, with their numbers so small to begin with. and, hell, what does he know, anyway? burke's got way more pack experience - delight, at least, would trust his counsel on the matter. either way: "i'll be by your side, no matter what," the androgyne confesses, and ducks his head slightly, hopeful his dark pelage hides the blush spreading fast across his face.