Emberwood apocalypse always chooses the worst time to come.

“What do you mean here?” she asked, turning to look at him for a moment. “Here, in this forest? In this land? Either way, no. I come from far away. I dispersed from my family pack when I came of age and found myself… here.” She paused a long while, still not much inclined to talk over the sound of the storm. Eventually, she dragged her mind back to the present and asked, “Where do you come from?” Grezig could not say she was really interested in the answer, as it probably would yield useless information, but she would not shun a conversation if he was trying to start one.