Kintla Flatlands such deliberate disguises.

"Nothing wrong with that," he said, empathizing with the notion of looking out for oneself. In a way, he had done the same with the decisions that he had made. Mordecai hadn't cast a thought back to how he would have ended up or who he would have become if he had stayed with the Spine. Something else called to him, though he couldn't have simply placed his paw on just what it was. The venture back out into the wilderness had been refreshing for a number of reasons, chief among them that he had been honored to share some of the travels with someone he thought a friend.

But his journey had also led him back to the Wilds. He wasn't much for fates or destinies or whatever others believed in. His own path had brought him back there and in a way, it had come full circle. There was something enchanting about the place, something in the unknown that drew him in now for the second time. He could have bypassed it altogether in the previous summer, continued right up the coastline before various packs extended their range onto it. But he had stayed. Was it because of the family that lived there? He doubted it. It certainly wasn't for the claim he had held.

His silence extended for a moment, and he reclined to his haunches.

"So what brings you out here? Just hitting the road to see what's around?" Everyone had a story, this he knew. And he enjoyed stories. But whether or not he got one was up to the stranger ahead of him. "I'm Mordecai, by the way."