Emberwood fiberglass

Trespassing. Had that word not been in the equation, he might have passed on by, tuning out the conversation. As it was, Pygmalion altered course and moved up to stand alongside the two women already there—Bhediya, and a pale fae he didn't really know.

They, in turn, were facing a man that might have been born from the marsh himself. Ragged, ribby and brown. He had a look about him that sent alarm bells ringing through Pyg's brain immediately.

Words had already been given, warnings clear. For his part, he managed to shut up (for once), squared his shoulders and fixed his dark stare on the intruder, ready to leap into the fray at a moment's notice.