Neverwinter Forest that which takes in turns, gives in spades

He didn't know Sif very well, but he was glad, at least, that she had found a new home. Tensions crackled like lightning within the walls of the valley; he was relieved to be away, and to be here with Poet was even better. Her trauma was written over her face, and he looked at the woman with slightly mournful eyes, nodding as she voiced her plans aloud.

"I can help," Phocion offered, smiling. He dipped his nose to the ground in illustration, prodding at a bit of greenery. "Just tell me what to look for--and let me know if I've got it all wrong. Don't want to poison him, after all," he added, with a nervous chuckle.

He wondered if she would accompany him and Cortland to Silvertip Mountain, where the trio could make a home. Did she have attachments elsewhere? By leaving the valley, he had restarted the process of gathering his flock, and he wanted Poet to be a part of it. Not just the flock, mind. . .but a shepherd, perhaps, or at least a trusted advisor.

"Where are you headed after this?" he asked, a little breathless with anticipation.