Ouroboros Spine Fox-squirrels!

As her ears pressed back against the curve of her head, Mordecai looked on curiously as she made a statement of the world. “Is it?” he queried. He had never considered whether or not it was harsh, though perhaps it really was. It was life, raw and simple, and they were bound by the nature that instinctively rolled through them. Some may have thought it harsh, but Mordecai did not see it entirely that way. It was evolution to a degree, however obscure. Packs founded and dissolved. Some of them were simply more nomadic than others. Some wolves simply lacked the drive to actually coordinate and hold a pack together. But they learned through those experiences, and learned to hone their skills for the next event horizon just out of reach.

Her next question brought him loose of his considerations. “Since the summer,” he said, not having a rough grasp on time. The comment came absently, almost out of nowhere. At least he felt certain that it had been the summertime, or at least pretty close to it. “Maybe since the late spring,” he added on, shrugging. It was hard to gauge the seasons there, but it was only the first set of them too. Even now, he felt like it was almost say to start calling it winter out, but only because the bite in the air was stronger and stronger. But if he had, then what did they say about their autumn? Mordecai did not sense it was entirely over.