sorbet.

It sounded like the Saints had been harassing these people for a while, but that didn't make sense to Stryx as she'd only been in the ravenswood a fortnight ago; had they truly migrated in to the mountains and caused a fuss in that short a time? Donovan clearly didn't waste a moment.

Hearing of the various instances of violence turned Stryx' interested, engaged expression in to something dull; she wasn't impressed by physical feats, mostly because she could only consider the wounds involved. How much blood had been shed. How many bite wounds would need tending. If the Willow wolves had set themselves upon a single entity then that entity was hurting, probably badly.

Maybe she'd go out and try to find them. Her work was never done.

You know of the Saints? The warrior prompted, to which Stryx absentmindedly nodded.

I first had contact with them after treating someone who got too close. Nearly lost her actually, her throat was shredded. She had to remind herself that Praimfaya had made it home to her mountain; her facial scars made her look distinguished, at least. I met their leader a couple of times after that. It was surprising to find him in the mountains.