Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

Slade noted the startled reaction and stored it away in the darker recesses of his mind. With a friendly tone, he offered, "There is no need to fear anything in our vicinity. Cry has OCD when it comes to ensuring the proximity is clear of threats, and Makaro has a habit of dispersing lower unpleasantries. Leila, if she hasn't already made her appearance, is our healer, and Redmoon is capable of escorting you safely, if you need it. Loki is mainly the entertainment, a chimera I've grown fond of hearing tell stories. In summary, miss Aglæca," he wrapped up with a politely canted head. "You are safe whenever you are with us."

Slade sat, scooping up the scales from the once flailing fish and dropping them in the waters, both feeding the fish that dwelled there, and leading them to a false sense of security, while giving the new recruit more targets to aim for. A gestured brow to her indicated with a smooth movement that she had more food awaiting her snatch, is she so wanted for it.

"Have you found your life eased by being with us thus far?" He inquired, curious for her answer. He wondered exactly what she and Cry had gone through in their brief times together, but he need not pry; Cry usually revealed himself in subtle ways that only his sculpture could decipher. He kept his demeanor gentle and calm, patient for her to choose her words.