"That's nice." He murmured, nodding along to Rigel's words. It was good that they had traveling buddies and that they weren't alone, because they seemed nice. And even if Cottongrass didn't know anything important - he knew that nice things were supposed to happen to nice wolves. It was a rule, or something. One that he was sure explained why he always had so much bad luck hanging around him. So Rigel must've been really nice, to have a warm den and traveling buddies. And that he was willing to offer even a little to a wolf like Cottongrass.
He gave a soft smile, ignoring the frown that threatened to tug the corners of his lips down. Because they asked him a question, and he was supposed to answer questions. Even if he didn't like it, because he wasn't a puppy anymore that could get away with that. "I uh, lost my friend on the other side of a mountain somewhere around here." Really, he wasn't that familiar with the land but he was certain that the mountains were involved. Had to be. "Her names Neha Vuesain. She's, uh, nice." He hadn't forgotten about her, he'd just put her to the side of the list of things that dictated him.
"But my friends are looking for someone else, though." At that he let himself frown, expression furrowed in thought as the details slipped by him. He was sure he could hold everything together a little longer, but it seemed like he couldn't even manage that. "I'd have to - I'd have to ask them about it, again." His shoulders heaved, giving a nervous shrug because of course he would forget now. He tried not to let it get him down as he kept talking.
"My friends?" He mumbled into the air, mostly talking to himself as he took to squinting into the woods he came from. It would be impossible to actually see them, but it helped him reorient himself a bit. Which was all he really needed. "They shouldn't be - they shouldn't be too far." All he knew was the general direction of somewhere between north and west, and the idea of the sun rising as he walked.
(Cold, crunch, cold, crunch ticked his brain.) It had gone on for a long time earlier, but probably not that long. The word far struck him wrong, but so did the word near. They were somewhere in between. He nodded to himself at that thought. But there was something still wiggling, still moving beneath his skin and forcing his paws to fidget in the snow below. It was a sense of wrongness that clung to him and stole away where all of his logic should have been.
"I could probably find them again if I needed to." He offered, gaze faraway on the trees. Because he was good at hearing the words underneath, and he was good at answering the questions everybody thought but never asked. Like 'how far are they from here' sounded a whole lot like 'how long will it be' and 'when will you leave.' At least that's how it all sounded to him. Which he was fine with, really, he would just needed to convince himself a bit more and he'd be alright. Because he had almost said he'd leave the moment they said the word, but nobody ever said those quiet words. They were just thoughts that seemed to slip in between the spaces of sentences. Everything was just hotsy-totsy, really.