Cry had been awaiting Phex as the young woman - yes, she was womaning now, and Cry simply had to accept this. @Iskra had informed him of the...'talk' of..'baby making'. And hormonal changes, and where spawn- uh, children came from. While he was proud of the young girl for embarking on such a strength-requiring path of life, he was grateful it wasn't himself who Phex had come to seek advice on such matters from. He might've had a heart attack. 

The time grew past as he and @Morgan ran their circuits for the day. He was having a rather in depth chat with the southern man who seemed much more honest than the Southerner's past had christened him into being. An assassin and a rogue criminal. What a funny pair. Despite the Rogue admitting he suspected 'folk had a hard 'nuff time makin' an understandin' of what he was sayin', the Phantom understood him perfectly fine. Well hell, after coming across Ashton and making a habit of trying to decipher the golden hippie 'bromigo', Cry felt he understood everything, at this point. 'Especialmente' other dialects. 

As the time waned, in the distance, both he and his aspiring Warden of the Keep noticed a pair of figures nearing. Always on the ready to make sure nobody was coming to try and stake claim on the already heavily bordered handsome sect of ethreal woods, Morgan began to step forward to assess the situation. But after a retrosecond, Cry could see these two, one whom he recognized by gait and size, along with the bright obvious color, while the other, he did not. 
Regardless of it, Morgan called out, rough voice cutting over the land with alert and gruff measure. "Who's that there?"

Cry however smiled slightly, as he saw Phex with a crisp beam across her joyful face. 

The Ambassador had brought the Keep another member. 

Damn right, he called out. Wasn't no ruffian bout to just waltz right on up into these woods and ruin what Cry had worked for. Hell, what ALL of em worked for. Wasn't nobody in the mood for a war; ain't folk tired of fightin? So as he did his job and was told with silent awareness that somebody was on the way, he was interested in making sure this wasn't no threat. Else, him and Cry would have to show em what for. "Who's that there?" his callout was not only enough to reach the ones who were coming their way, but to alert the others, and most especially his girl @Velvet should she want to come and see what was up. @Gwen, who was seemingly always near when her man was out and about more than likely heard it, as well. Hell, er'body should know his voice by now. 

Discerning golds picked out Phex, whom Cry had told the rustler about. A splotched gurl that had a pumpkin pie demeanor and a sunny laugh. Played alot too. A good girl, so much as he thought. So she was easy to find, despite him not having had a conversation with her yet. But who was the feller with her?

Cry embraced the youth with a chin atop the petite’s crown who’s pent up energy he could feel still feel just under her own coat. Throwing a snort to her bubbling personality, he looked down at her as she explained who he was. The youth he considered nearly a daughter to him had talked  about the newcomer as though she had gotten to know him much more than anyone had probably expected. 

Pulling a playfully suspicious but fond pair of glacials from the piebald, Cry took in the words of new man after the carried bodies had been put down. A reflection of the baritones came forth from the ex-Assassin as he confirmed his identity to the fellow man. “I am. All lone souls are welcomed here at Shadewood. Once you get settled in and such, feel free to seek me out unless I find you first. We can discuss business after you and Phex rest.” And that was that. There was no asking of how good the stranger was in anything- it was simply ‘come right on in now that we know who you are.’ That was what Shadewood was about. “And welcome to Shadewood, Laroche.” The final sentence was sent from the Phantom with a slight smile in both face and heart.

After a brief study of the fella Cry was happily welcoming in, he simply assumed the head man knew what was better for this little family of theirs. Morgan had come from a posse where folks had a trial period of showing their loyalty, and usually a rugged band like that, to make it in enough to be trusted, that took years. Cry went willy nilly with it. Or maybe he was underestimating the posse leader - there was something mysterious in those cold eyes, and it didn’t seem so friendly if you had the balls to look hard enough.

A sleep-smellin body rubbed up against his, and turning to see who had gave him a little bit of feel-good Morgan wasn’t surprised to see his girl by his side. His little Vetty came to see what all tha noise was about. Giving a rough kiss against her sleek crown, he lowered that heavy head of his to kiss her on the cheek and murmur in her ear a bit. He didn’t mind showing his love in public- that’s what a man was spose ta do with his woman was love ‘er. Plus to would show to that new man to keep his paws to himself “Sorry babehgurl, didn’t mean ta wake ya.”

It wasn’t too soon after him apologizing to Vetty that Phex had come to throw herself all in the mix, even if she was a step or two back. “Names Morgan,” he said in that southern rumble of his. “This here’s Velvet.”

Peeking over the shorter piebald’s shoulder, he gave a nod to Laroche, some sort of greeting rather than none.