Deepwood Weald You never knew? Good.

 Cry brought forth with a politely canted tilt of an obsidian maned shadow crown, a subtle and silent second to Gwen's aquaint to their current company. Wintery irises glassed a shard of minor appreciation to Tulagak being introduced. His natal pack's woods had bore plenty of crows, and he wasn't very glad for the evil feathery things. They stole and snitched, an omen to dark tidings all about. But as he was contempt of the avians, he remembered this type of background was one he knew overly well. And it was familiar, almost reminescent and almost homely to cuddle such a distant memory. 
A painful cuddle. 

Resurfacing to the current the quad rode now, he chose to speak not too far after Damien's own finalty. Righting his crown once more, artic winds cested through the group as his suggestion came after the vie for Damien. "It's true- had to do a bit of travel and circle tracking to find you all. But regardless, I believe we're less than a day and a half's lope far west. Following the coast, a jungle will greet you further back, but unmistakable." A single second paused to warm the silence, before he frosted it yet again. "Should you all come to find us, you and your band will be welcomed." It spoke against his nature to be so open with secrecy and his own home, where he planned to raise his children, and where his- where their Family would bring up their own spawn. But to form an alliance, open honesty was required. And that included letting them intimately slither up to your jugular. Was it trust? Or hope?

Hope tasted bitter across most tongues...but to Cry it had the distinct flavor of poison, of immenent death.
He needed this to be far from the poison he feared too well.