Ouroboros Spine lambent, flashing, red and white.

“Of course. It might help you to get the lay of the land, too.” Mordecai had no qualms about contributing to the pack, but that was a given. His loyalty to the Spine had paid off in minute ways if he were to suppose, though he had largely taken it upon himself to take control of it. And for the most part, it hadn't been rejected… not that there were an overwhelming faction against him. In a way, his decision to pull wolves into the pack was double-sided without him giving thought to it, and he unknowingly garnered support.

Nudging Harlyn's furry shoulder, he sprang forward with a bark and broke into a run. Though the walk would have probably been more scenic than the run, time was not something he found himself wasting as the days grew shorter. The trails to the ridge were familiar to him and he wove neatly through the winding forestry before them. Though the last time he had visited the ridge he had been happened upon by Ptarmigan, the memory did not come to him as the ascent began. It was only as he neared the peak that his steps slowed into a trot of sorts, and he threw a glance backwards to see if Harlyn had been lost.