Ouroboros Spine my father bleeds history

Been waiting for this too. Apparently have been wanting to write too, because we have finger spew. I don't feel awake enough right now but <3.

For what felt like the first time again in probable days, if not weeks, Mordecai had turned inward towards the pack. He had lingered like an outlier at their doorstep, a reclusive sentinel that had given their hierarchy time to begin to sort itself out. Other than venturing out to retrieve Cara, he hadn't really left Ouroboros. But he hadn't really been apart of it either, and did not know what to gauge of its inhabitants now. There had been changes, this he could sense. But there was not an expectant calm of air that he had hoped for, or a sign that things were better. Maybe they were, maybe they weren't. He couldn't suggest it one way or another.

It had been easier to hole up in his own thoughts, anyway. He worked at decisions, considered the impacts. Even considered the ramifications that came with those impacts, decisions, or lack thereof. It had been a drawn out process that ultimately had left him at square one. Cara's words to the void of Greatwater Lake echoed roughly back in his mind. Stay, or go. He had never been one to outright abandon a pack. He had left them, some on good terms, some on not so good. For a change indecision held him tightly, and he could not determine whether or not it was better to stay and accept change, or go and embrace a change of a different sort.

Eyes half-lidded in the warmth of morning, he almost dismissed the body that made its way through the forestry growth. But it was unfamiliar, and without truly thinking about it, Mordecai set after him swiftly and smoothly. Without malice that he would have harbored days ago. This one smelled strongly of the usurper, but even that was a scent he was picking up as familiar. Any traces of Jinx, or Lecter, were long gone. Trailing behind in what was probably the most sleazy, not-really-hiding way, Mordecai let his senses sharpen and focus in on the earthy coat. The familiarity of such did not register, just as the surroundings he was in failed to strike him as even remotely familiar. He embraced the thoughtless daze, yet to be jarred from it.