take apart the counting and the flock it has bred

In his study of the terrain, a figure broke into the scene. Immediate familiarity did not hit him, though something familiar about the traveling male sparked his interest. Mordecai watched him as he made his way through, only to have the connection solidify itself sharply as the shifting light through the balding canopies illuminated him. “Dante!” he called out, surprising himself with the outburst. He had not seen the greyscale companion since their venture together in the summer. It had been too long, and Mordecai found himself genuinely surprised that he still lingered in the Wilds.

Leaving his perch at the base of the conifer, the tawny Ostrega readily made his way towards his friend. A smile etched its way across his muzzle, his tail falling into a overly wide swing of happiness. The odds of them crossing paths seemed so low, but there had been times where Mordecai wished they would have encountered one another. It seemed today would be that day, a bright spot in some of the bleakness that coated the world as of late.