Rook offered a smile as Veho defended himself. It wasn't in any sort of jest or mocking, but rather an assured simper, one that told him that Rook believed him capable of figuring out a variety of fungi... that this whole ordeal with this strange mushroom was an accident and a lesson learned. "It's fine," he replied in regards to the whole 'leaving the pack.' "Titan was gone for a while, he's around... somewhere... If it's for a good reason, I'm sure we'll allow you a number of days for your journey. My father went to the Mountain of Dire and back a couple times over the course of a few days, my mother only worried when he was gone for much longer than that. The ground's pretty much flat, I've found, in these parts; it shouldn't be too troublesome to traverse apart from the Archer-Lyalls in the Ridge." Much of what he said here was said in confidence, stemming from both his own personal experiences and his parents' fanciful stories of when they had first come to this expanse of Canadian wilderness.
Upon the mention of the berries, Rook hummed back with a note of approval. He would have to do something with it somehow. A whiff of it deciphered through his olfactory senses told him that it could have tasted tart, but whether or not it was poisonous was something to question first and foremost. When it came to berries, though, Rook's mind had thoughts of using them as bait, utilizing them as a means to draw birds to the forest floor. For a second, he thought it would be something Titan might find interesting, but he did not dwell on it and, in return, offered a small "Thank you. They're lovely."
It was here that Veho shifted and the masked youth removed his chin from the other's shoulder blade, allowing him to move. Once comfortable again, Rook remained characteristically sphinx-like with his right paw folded at the wrist. The rogue was allowed a moment to think, the silence between them nothing but pleasant and relaxing. When Veho spoke at last, the Lyall was obviously fascinated by how his ears had cupped forward in interest, but as soon as Namid was brought up, something in Rook's face changed. The mention of Neha and everything else thereafter almost unheard of if it weren't for Rook's need to hang onto his every word.
One of those dark, rounded ears had swiveled to one side, making for an obviously puzzled expression that the youth couldn't have recovered from fast enough when he heard Veho add that he had been on his own for a while and that he hadn't the faintest clue as to what his siblings were up to. "Oh," the single syllable came from him as though he were a mourning dove singing it's trademark song in the chill of the early morning right before sunrise.
For Rook, it was impossible to lie; for him to have to keep from lying meant that he had to keep his mouth shut. In the face of his companion's enlightening history, he could not help but wonder if he should say anything. He cleared his throat as politely as he could. It was his turn to look away for a moment, "I suppose we share that common aspiration; the only difference is that you've gone out to make a name and vocation for yourself whereas I've merely gathered my family together and nothing else." He almost continued to share the rest of his story but at this point it was no use. He had already told Veho that he had come here for his father's sake, to find a cure, and relieve him of his memory loss; a point had also been made that his family had returned to the Cedarwood Forest if only because it was the last place Borden truly remembered and felt at home in.
"N-Namid, though," he faltered with the pronunciation of her name, the memories all flooding back to him to a time when he had her and his sister Bishop for company. The ear that was facing to the side perked up before relaxing again. How many Namids were there in the world anyway? Just one as far as he was concerned. Once, he believed that there were, perhaps, a number of Bishops and Rooks but none of them twins or siblings or even in the same pack or family. The reason there were so many was because of the whimsical idea that there were packs out there who liked to name their children after birds. he would have never thought that Namid had a last name. She had never mentioned it and, to him, she had always been simply "Namid, the Star Dancer..." his Bright Star. And, now, her brother was here and Rook found that he loved Veho a little more...
Something in him seemed a bit sad, bordering on melancholic as well as hesitant to continue on the topic of Veho's sister, "I'm the youngest in my family and I, too, have the faintest idea as to what my own brothers and sisters are doing. They go off and do their own thing, thinking the others might take care of 'the baby' but no one thinks to double-check that I'm being looked after. They just leave." The moment he had said it all, he regretted it, wondering if it might spur Veho to look for @Namid - something he absolutely did not want him to do. "'He can take care of himself,' they say, 'He can fend for himself. He's the favorite, he'll survive.'"