Wapun Meadow Spiders deserve life in prison.

Had he any wit at all perhaps his tongue would fly in response, but instead there was an owlish look upon his face. Innocent, more or less, and surprised to have any question levied his way. Having gone from one silent caretaker to the next (or at least near-silent more recently) sometimes Glaucos forgot that people could talk. It surprised him that anyone would ask anything of him, bastard and layabout that he was.

Mother Averna, he hastened to say, answering honestly. Her scent was the strongest beside those of the leadership, then there was the herb-strong Evien (though he did not know their name). Glaucos reacted to the speaking of the ghost's name as if she were there with them, non-corporeal, watching and judging. He looked around with a clumsy sweep of his head; ears splaying, slanting back, resetting.

Where we goin'? He asked the older man, slurring his words somewhat as he rarely had cause to use them.