Sun Mote Copse I heard the news today oh boy

Phox listened as Niamh gave him and Towhee a recap of her encounter with these elk-worshipping racist weirdos. His hair pricked along his spine, and Phox was glad he hadn't been there. Anybody saying anything nasty about him was fine, but saying nasty things about Niamh? Well, that was reserved for a very few amount of close friends, none of which were outside the Firebirds (except perhaps Wraen, who could take care of herself if Niamh ever caught wind of any mean words the former sovereign might say).

Not only that, but it appeared these weirdos (now their canonical name in Phox's head) were setting up shop too close for comfort and disregarding any sense of ownership that the Firebirds had over the glad. -I guess I've been busy reworking all the caches; I've missed all of this somehow. Are they trying to claim the glade, or just hunt there? Hunting... eh, not the greatest, but if they move there, I'm not okay with that at all.-

His ear twitched when Towhee mentioned the strath, even though Phox had always referred to it as the grove. If they set up there, they wouldn't be around for long. Phox was convinced that place was forever cursed, and he wouldn't go anywhere near it.