Ouroboros Spine i'm coming up only to hold you under

Further along the path, he picked up on the sight of Sitri. Mordecai's pace slowed and at first, he only watched the healing beast from afar. While the memories of a rather unpleasant day were calling back to him, there was little Mordecai could have done to undo the past. What was done was done, and for the most part they had all moved on. And so he approached Sitri, instinctively leery of him as he felt he should have been. But there was no ire to be found in the gaze that he cast at the reflection-studying wolf. He may have been out for his blood at one point, but the anger behind it had long settled.

“It looks like it's healing up all right,” Mordecai said evenly, unable to let his gaze do anything but wander over what had once been a grave wound. One that Ptarmigan had dealt, the one that perhaps might have been an end for Sitri if not for the aid he had found. Even now, weeks later, it still seemed much more horrible than it really was. Or so Mordecai hoped. “How are you feeling?” He had seemed in better shape than on that day when they had hunted together, but Mordecai had never gained the chance to truly ask him. It was safe to imply that he did not ask entirely as a friend, but from the standpoint of a leader. Sitri was still apart of the Spine, and his well being was just as important as his ability to contribute.