Cerulean Cape godly ichor

He'll arrive in the next round <3

A youthful voice rang out over the sands. Ptolemy heeded the call at once. Though he did not dare to hope that its source was one of the children he sought, he knew the value of youth. A child could be taught, molded, a new Druid made of them.

So he searched in the night, nose low to the ground. He did not yet see the shadows flitting across the beach, the darting figures of wayward Druids. But he felt their presence.