Ghost Lion Crag And the rain

Smokestep smiled softly at her remark made about Odysseus having picked the lesser of two evils; the pirate had never known which had been the wisest choice. The yearling had always imagined himself as a fearless creature who would proudly face any potential monster in the seas, but he was still fearful of the unknown. The Witchdoctors had given them enough thought to keep them up for nights about what was hidden in the deepest darkest depths of the water. When she then mentioned the thought of taming the beasts in the tales, he looked to her with wide eyes and a shocked expression. After a moment, he cracked a toothy grin and shook his head. “Ye’ve got spirit, lass. I like it.”
 
They trekked on a little while further and Smokestep found himself lost in the prospect of exposing a weakness in a creature of that magnitude. When she brought up a question on the Hydra, his ears perked and he looked at her with a careful expression. “Three headed beastie ain’t it?” he asked curiously. Though he was not entirely familiar with their story and the details behind it. He’d heard it only once as a small boy.