Moonsong Glacier clothe yourself with all the rough alikes

As the woman approched, Whip remained completely and perfectly still. He didn't even blink out of fear that she may be provoked into lashing out as Meteora did when Whip found himself out of line. Did he fear them? These Sirens? In part, yes. However, he knew they were his only chance to survive -- and where else was he to go? At least here, unhospitable as his situation was, he had a home. He had a purpose, which was something Whip had never felt he had. Not even among family did he feel like he belonged.

By now, the woman was closer. He could see the scowl knitting deep lines though her brow. The drudge bit his lip and waited in silence. With her muzzle, she touched him. Yet Whip did not flinch. He remained still; statuesque. Then, she spoke. Her question was one he had asked himself many times over. Why did he follow? Why did he stay? The answer was simple. "I have nowhere else to go," he replied, casting his gaze downward as he spoke. There was no family to go back to. Nothing.