Emberwood coquilles.

Everything made sense once the woman had explained herself. Stryx pocketed her name and otherwise remained focused and attentive, still concerned that something more was amiss, and her expression only deepened in to one of further consternation when Lumiya mentioned the Saints. Of course it was Donovan and his cronies causing a fuss, yet again. The man never knew when to step back and leave well enough alone; as if he was fully determined to alienate every living thing. She wondered if he enjoyed sewing chaos in these Wilds, or if he merely did it to power the pity train that no doubt followed after.

Do not apologize, Stryx would have waved away the commentary with a flippy little hand if she had the capability. She shook her head instead, a sigh tumbling out of her. I know of them. It does not surprise me in the slightest that they've brought their animosity to the natives of this region... But it would keep her busy with plenty of work too, of which she could not complain.

Are your people injured? If you permit me entry to your willows, I can apply my training and help to mend them. If that is of any consolation. But what would stop Donovan from raiding the woman's home again? What was the point of Stryx being here and helping anyone if they were bound by fate to be targeted repeatedly? It felt like a doomed cause; but she had to offer, and she had to try.