Deepwood Weald loneliness lingers through unfamiliar towns

Kalika would be right in assuming such. Akantha was standoffish in the best of times, and downright churlish all of the others. Akantha snorted and slicked her ears back at the pale yearling's response, feeling a similar twinge of guilt. She was already irritable at not having a place to call home—piling that unpleasantness on her fellow Sirens was just a petty way to relieve her stress, and not at all what she intended.

She had looked away while Kalika spoke but turned back when the young woman stopped, watching as her tail curled demurely around her haunches. The scarred Adept looked her over, and sighed. "No, stay. The distraction is welcome." Akantha admitted finally, the sharpness in her gaze fading. She reached over to press her nose into Kalika's soft shoulder only to turn and resume walking, an invitation present in the slower stride of her gait. 

"Have you spoken much to the others?"