Redhawk Caldera I'd rather make it mine.

Mou shouldn't be as relieved as he feels when the conversation shifts to the subject of departure, but he can't help but feel that precise thing. Content that his lies have held, less worried that perhaps he is putting his family and home at risk. They wish him luck and he nods his head, chuffing in that airy way his voice allows, his effort of saying same to you despite not really wishing this man well. He hopes he never sees the pale wolf again. Mou lingers for a few moments to watch him walk along the plateau before he does the same, heading in the opposite direction before deviating his route north — at least to keep the lie going until they're both out of sight of one another.