Neverwinter Forest as helpless as a stinger without a bee

Squishes the old man @ people.

The forest had seen better days, but so had the rest of the wilds. Njal trekked as quickly as his tired body could trek, making small observations the likes of which weren't worth mentioning. Most of the pine trees were intact, which made him vaguely happy; the bugs probably could not eat those thick pine needles, so patches of the forest were still healthy and protective. No doubt he'd find one of the expectant mothers among them somewhere, hidden away. The old man wondered about the pack population for a moment, and came to an abrupt halt in the middle of nowhere. There were two pregnant women, one Scimitar, probably one other male who was mated to Scim's sister, and then who else? Njal lifted his head and sniffed, his tongue flicking just shy of his lips as he tasted the air, but he couldn't really tell anything from the soft summer breeze.