Dragoncrest Cliffs the moonchild come to harm

A bear, she answered, and the wocha felt his shoulders tense--possibly noticeably so. The same one, perhaps, that Drageda had not managed to bring down? The vile beast had gone back towards Ankyra Sound to the last of his knowledge, which could have reasonably wandered further on down the coast afterward--he hadn't personally tracked it any past their reach, not with the pups afoot, and never had it returned to near their cliffs.

He wore the proof his own encounter in the knotted, gnarling scar tissues, like many of their own too. Their bloodied, worn states made far more sense with bear in mind, and an old ache at the back of his neck wanted to sympathize more properly.

He fought against the need to glance over his shoulder to Sequoia so soon. With Helix flanking him, too, he ought to feel more ease over this. The more he heard and the longer he looked at the pair, the more a vague maybe-familiarity was pinging for the darker of the duo. She had stayed quiet while he thought this through, given plenty to digest from Erzulie--regarding Ironsea, and why it was their cliffside doorstep they found.

So many had come, gone, and passed by. Hard telling, with suspicions running free.. however, it was worth addressing: "What happened to the rest of Ironsea?" Bear food, maybe. Or scattered to the winds anyway, as such a flight seemed to imply so far. "We aren't meant to serve as a sanctuary for the needy," he intoned levelly between the two. He was guarded with their resources, young and mending to consider first and foremost. And these were delicate times; he was place-holding already, and not at his most welcoming with such judgements looming. They weren't looking for charity cases. "Do you know Heda?" he asked Erzulie, and as he spoke, watched the masked woman keenly. He already had an inkling for the other's answer, not that it helped.