Dragoncrest Cliffs maybe spit some blood at the camera, just stay alive

Heda is dead.

Dacio paused at the solemn tone of Blixen's voice, turned to point his muzzle in the direction from which it had come, and pricked his dark ears forward to listen. Breath held, he focused entirely on the young Fleimkepa's call.

Come to the cliffs.

At this, he could've swore he felt his blood ran cold. He visibly shuddered against the sudden chill that sent his guard hairs on edge, wondering if Drageda's leader had met a fate there similar to that of his own mother. The ashen youth did not step forward at once, instead appearing rooted to the spot as he tried to convince himself to go, that the pack needed to support one another now more than ever, and at last sucked in a deep breath.

Dacio lingered in the background, feeling his mouth dry and his heart thrum wildly as grey-green eyes drifting over his comrades. While the weight of their most recent and devastating loss hung heavy over the group, the sterling youth took some comfort in the knowledge that they all shared something in common: loyalty to Heda, even in death. Together, they would mourn her.

He didnt have anything to say, and stepped alongside Opalia to brush his flank carefully against her own - I'm here - to listen.