Moonspear her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs

A loud rustling of trees draws her attention, and she shifts her gaze only to find herself nearly plowed over by a burly wolf. Megara steps back, recovering quickly—though her fur bristles with wary surprise—and casts her indigo gaze over him. It is the boy who was in their forest some time ago, looking weary. And before she can question him, another arrives, a kind-spoken woman who seems more welcoming than the brute before her.

Greetings, miss. I— She doesn't realize until he is almost upon him that Moath has been tracking her. She turns at his approach, eyes wide and then narrowing quickly with disapproval. Megara does not trust her son to be diplomatic, especially not in the state he seems to be in, all but trembling and drooling before her.

With a sigh, she turns again to the woman. And then there is yet another. So she focuses her attention on both women, the darker one looking fiercer than the other, but still not as cold as the boy. I am Meldresi; my family is newly settled. I would like to know, first, why this young man was within our claim a moon or so ago, she begins, dipping her nose to Revui, but I had originally come with the intention to make my neighbors' acquaintance. This is my son, Megara adds, gesturing with a shoulder roll at Moath.