The de Fonte was now really glad he met this wolf, instead of another. He heard of the more developed Luperci, how the women were queans, never committing themselves to one male and how the men killed the ones they considered mutts for sport or revenge for injured egos. Mordecai, of course, would not fully believe such things unless seeing such for himself, though he did have his assumptions, especially after catching a glance that a borders that littered with skulls.
The man before him did not fit the rumors, and was starting to be grateful that he nearly ventured into his territory; few faces had he seen, and even fewer had he spoke to. To be holding a conversation after a few moons of barely talking to others, and the fact of being in a different land, seemed to encourage Mordecai to make him a good acquaintance.
“Hey, no worries, Zalen,” the younger male spoke, “I would’ve done the same if it was my territory.” His eyes seemed to light up as Zalen mentioned a lake, and better yet, a swim. His tail now was adjusted to its normal level as it wagged back and forth, and said enthusiastically, “That would be awesome!” He thought in the back of his mind that it’d be a great way to get to know the midnight wolf better, and perhaps to even learn a few things about the packs around the area and those in it. As he followed the older male, he asked, “So, how long have you’ve been living here? I haven’t been here long, just crossed over the mountains in the north the other day.”
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