Shadewood All I need is love

The scrapping scraggly voice crossed his ears, obsidian auds flipping back with crisp response to the harsh sound. It sounded like the mewl of a wounded baby, a cold and shivering mourn to the warmth, the milk, the care that it once had so mercilessly needed. 
It was a cry for help. 

The Keeper rushes lightly through the brush of slowly reviving woods, the clear scent of spring bleeding lively in his nares. He tracked down the sight soon enough, and first stood assessing the situation, his stance calm, his mind clear. 

Looking to Laroche, Cry kept his composure draped molded to the vindictive onslaught he had already concocted for this affair. It was clear as day- someone had hurt Phex. While it wasn’t his care or concern what happened to her, the girl was under his roof, his name, his scent. This attack on her was an attack on him, slander, and he would not take light to this.

”Who did this.” Eerily, the cold voice reverberated a low hum around them, seeming almost as direct as a whisper, but as clear as a whistle. It mattered not who answered- but the Phantom demanded one.