the lonely mountain

Footfalls captured his attention, pulling Mordecai from whatever primal reverie he had been locked away in. He located her easily, though initially he was more perplexed out of her approach than anything. It was more or less about the time she opened her mouth to speak his name that he picked up on the nunaces of her body; the colors of her coat, the resolute, but different shade of gold of her eyes. The rusty-red blaze that smeared across her muzzle. If not for that, he would have instantly thought of his aunt, though Mordecai had not seen Shila in quite some time. The same went for Justice as well.

“Justice?” he found himself querying the open air. His surprise was no mistake, and he could not have masked it if he wanted to. Of all the wolves he had encountered across the wilderness, she had not been one he fully anticipated. Then again, Mordecai had not expected to see Viggo, or Verrine, or even learn that Ptarmigan came from their sprawling family lines. “It's been so long! What are you doing here?” A smile broke across his face when he was certain it was her, not some apparition there to play tricks on him. He closed in their gap a bit more, reaching out tentatively with his muzzle to draw in the muddied hints of where she had been, and furthermore to find that one thing that truly meant she was here and she was well.