Lost Creek Hollow we swore we knew the future

With the eager assurance that Luke had no qualms about joining him, the two set off towards the borders. At even pace guided them through trails that grew familiar and briefly, Mordecai's eyes wandered to catch the first few glimpses of change in the canopies above them. Much like they had settled in the woodland, autumn was settling across the region soft and silent. But the pressing necessity that they were unprepared did not taint his thoughts this year; things were a far cry of difference, and on a good end of things.

"Well, if I say so myself," Mordecai said, stirred loose from his study of the forestry. "Things have come together very well." Sure, there were the rough patches that any pack had, but for the most part they had turned out to be fairly robust. Even if he couldn't account for every head and where it was, Mordecai was certain that they were doing their part. Perhaps it was only him taking stock in the notion that ignorance was bliss, but it was a rather blissful state of mind to inhabit.

"What do you think, Luke?"