Moonspear this soul's a stowaway

Though he had certainly punched a hole through her happiness, she went on with the tale, and he listened. It was a curious sort of thing to hear, to imagine that she had actually lived a full and rewarding life outside of the realm that he could see. Of course, it wasn’t without it’s sorrow either; his ears splayed back as she spoke of losing two of her children, then of her husband to the cruelty of an other’s ambitious whim.

Still, the demise of such a creature drew a snort from Dirge.

“I would expect no less of you,” he murmured, “though I am sorry you had to go through with such. Hydra and I have been… fortunate not to have such things happen.” No usurpers in their midst that he could find, though he had worried after Alya for a spell and her disdain for him. That had seemed to smooth over with time; he thought of her more fondly now, at least. He did not speak of this, nor of how he and Hydra had come into their reign.

“Though some time ago a rather fiendish hag took her pound of flesh from one of our elder sons, Osiris. He’s since recovered but she has been a reoccuring problem for some time, and her companion. We’ve tried to suss them out from our neighboring areas but it would seem they’ve moved on, but they’re only one of several who try and test their luck here. If they don’t cause problems with us directly, they stir trouble with our neighbors,” and even then, their neighbors were often a mixed bag, he thought.

He sighed, and gave his coat a shake to loosen it of water.

“But aside from that there’s few things to worry of here, at least within our territory. I can’t speak for the others and most of our conflicts have happened in the glen to the north where we mainly hunt. This wilderness can be unforgiving, but thankfully we are well acquainted with such an environment.” A small smirk revealed itself then, half-hearted—it wasn’t truly all that bad, but he was sure that Keres could infer such on her own.