King Elk Forest Hop skip jump, etc

"Pardon me for believing the child brought them to the world's most famous bard, your majesty," he remarks casually, brows lifted as pink eyes seek out Calhoun again.  Ravinger's just gotten an earful he hadn't asked for.  The words of the devout Baron go in one ear and out the other.  The bard's never cared for such talk.  He's loyal to the High Elk and to his family; that's all that matters.  Politics are useless to a wolf of his trade.

"Right then, Calhoun, darling, perhaps you should pray to the High Elf for a bit of restraint," that winning smile returns, undeterred by the Baron's warning words. "You may be Baron, but you forget that I am the grandson of the old King just as much as our valiant leader here.  You'd do well to remember that." He cants his head to the side and trots toward Primrose and Cenric.

"Oh, dear King, I would be happy to escort the wayward boy back home.  He wants stories!  Who better to receive stories from than Kingslend's royal bard?" Aside to Primrose, he whispers conspiratorily: "I do tell the best ones, little duck.  Perhaps I'll write a song about how you stood bravely against the child-slayer and won."