Neverwinter Forest whip cracks, we jump

He doesn’t know how long it’s been between the howl and spotting the form rushing towards him. Muscles tense, and his stance automatically becomes defensive. Still within the mode to fight and protect what is precious to him, he is all for taking on another—when the scent is recognized as familiar to the borders. Mal. The Boss.
A bloody snort is all he gets in greeting, as Kratos continues his path further within the boundaries of Neverwinter, and further away from neutral lands.
Some fucker was trying to kill Ghost, he says when another one of the Forest’s residents pop out of the trees like the goddamn gremlins they are. A growl rumbles in his chest the second the sunshine boy gets too close, a response out of instinct that Kratos doesn’t care to halt.
He follows Mal to the clearing, and once reaching it, allows his legs to collapse from underneath him. Zephyr fortunately pillowed from the blow by his bulk.