Lone Star Mountain abalone

two strangers approach them.

ezra's steps halt, chin lifting, grip on his bird tightening. were they being hunted? was this amadeo's doing? though ezra suspects that the dark pelages man couldn't care less about him, he was probably livid that heda had fled rivenwood.

mistrust of amadeo and druid flirt precariously with the line of paranoia; unaided by his missing brother and father.

a low snort pushes out of his flared nostrils; draconian.

vho are you? vhat do you vant? came slightly muffled 'round the bird still clamped possessively in his jaws, his body shifting as if to shield his mother; protective. it was a ridiculous thing, perhaps. skaigona could take care of herself and he, still lanky with legs perhaps a bit too long and broad shoulders he is still growing into ... but he does not care how silly he looks.