Lost Creek Hollow underneath the black locust tree

When Mordecai spoke, he commanded Luke's full and undivided attention, save for the quick glance he gave to a new male as he approached the group. The white wolf's tail drummed the ground behind him as he listened, his head bobbing along with each point. This gathering was just another item checked off on the list of things to do before they could consider themselves official. His paws itched then and there to dig caches and subsequently stock them with as much fish as he could catch; in tandem they itched to add more of his scent to their borders, and pull in any passerby's that could be persuaded. In short, he was eager to work, and spoke up to take on some responsibility. "I will see to the caches," despite his statement, there was a look on his face that remained open to his leaders' suggestions if they preferred he focus his energy elsewhere. But, as he considered himself a to-be fishkeeper, he thought this would be appropriate.