Ouroboros Spine Stop telling Lies about Me, and I'll Stop telling the Truth about You

Realizing that Lucius had come to a stop, Mordecai turned to find the younger wolf scratching at the ground. Only he wasn't really scratching, the Ostrega noticed as he doubled back slightly, he was drawing. Silently, he watched as the fellow made his design, though in actuality Mordecai had to be reined in to figure out what the design was. He was reminded then of Caiaphas and her crude etching of the ouroboros, though this was far from it. By the time Lucius had finished explaining everything, the handiwork his subordinate had done resembled nothing more than a bunch of lines and squiggles.

It wasn't that Mordecai lacked the imagination to figure it out, it was simply that understanding and reading it were skills he did not possess. Still, he admired the attempt all the same, interested in the way Lucius had seemingly kept tabs on everything. It seemed if nothing else, he would make a fine hunter in time. “So the elk have moved on?” This time, his question was more of a test than anything. Mordecai had seen them lingering well beyond the outskirts of their territory, almost as though they had better smarts than to cross over their well marked borders. And fair enough, he supposed, as they had all been making their attempts to hunt them for weeks.