Lost Creek Hollow steam rising from the belly of the beast

It did not take much for Mordecai to gain the sensation that he may have suggested the wrong thing altogether. The haste in which he draw himself to see Luke pull away with told him that much and spoke of the volumes that his beta's frustration may have been mounting. Yet before he could call him back, Luke was gone and obscured by the cover of the woods.

A sigh broke Mordecai's silence, though it was far from frustration of his own. It drew from concern over the reaction his companion had towards all that had happened and ultimately left him feeling powerless to try and stop things from spinning wildly as a result. He couldn't fault Luke for feeling the way that he did and as he came to terms with it, he also realized there was little he could do to curb it now.

Dropping his solitary eye to the hare between his forelegs, Mordecai plucked it at with uncertainty. Even in spite of the hunger gnawing at him, he was slow to strip hide from the succulent flesh beneath. Inevitably, he gathered it up as he brought himself to draw back into the interior shelter provided by the den, secluding himself from the outside world to chew slowly in peace.