Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

Dutch was not far. He had been roving toward the coast, in fact, eager to tell Chakliux of the new little lives born within the wood even though he knew he ought to send for Valiant first. He was still not of a mind to leave Minnow unattended, and Chakliux was easier to reach than Valiant.

The call pricked his ears and put an extra spring in his step — and then the call for his wife and his girl made him slow. A current of unease washed through him.

"Lockjaw," he called out in greeting, drawing near with noticable trepidation but a whisking tail. "Who is your friend?" he asked, using his seal hunter words with confidence. He was still learning, but he could at least form the words he did know with as little accent as when he spoke the common tongue.

He might normally have greeted Chakliux with an affectionate nudge or by knocking their shoulders together to instigate a spar — but the presence of a stranger seemed to call for a little more decorum. His burnished gaze landed on Cen in polite question.