Blackfoot Forest the woods are lonely, dark, and deep

If he had been more sentimental, he may have compared her to a inverse color of Jinx. Large and undeniably proud, like an Amazon writ clean of a story. She was larger than he, though Mordecai was not a small creature by any means. He was travel worn still in spite of the Plateau's scent he bore, and forwardly curious. Somewhere in her watchful gaze, he saw a hardness that he could not place a thought to, but had seen before. She looked like someone with a story to tell, but not so keen on sharing it. There had been the fair share of those types at any hub of packs he had ventured in, out of, or by.

But the aggression she watched for would not come from him; instead, he merely gave a turn of his head to relay the curiosity that had begun to brew. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?" he opted to ask, though he had no idea what kind of an answer he would get. If any — Mordecai had also met his fair share of wolves that wouldn't trade a word for anything. There was something dutiful about her that he could relate to and additionally, he wondered if he had come wandering in close into her territory.