Hideaway Strath in your crypt

There was, alas, another's arrival. A pair of three which were scouting together it would seem, much as he and the two ladies at his side whilst Donovan had branched off up until now. She did not speak to them directly, not like the other two. Instead, she whispered to one of her counterparts, obviously words she did not want them to hear yet looked into their direction all the same. Rude. She could have at least done so after they had parted ways. Either way, Hemlocke didnt know what she had but it only left him all the while more anxious then he already naturally was. His eyes flickered between the other wolves every so often as they spoke. A wolf like him was always on high alert. 

Now Nyra too fell silent as the woman kept up the pleasantries, curious of their time here. It was obvious who led the group, as their large, stripped leader took the stand. The male then of their group spoke, knowing of Ursus and in turn, having heard similar tails of the Saints. Hemlocke's expression pulled back, grim, large ears flickering back at what he heard. Of course, he knew his pack was a rough group, dominant, arrogant, fighting mad type, but were they too so cruel? Hemlocke, at least, wasnt. Nor did he particularly think any of his pack were. But he didnt know everything and was equally bias by loyalty. 

Ears flicking up once more, he was curious as to what he had been told and Donovan's response. Would their life here be just as questioned? Given the fact that Moonspear was north, on the great wilderness region side, he wondered what packs were actually living in this area which they should look out for. He wanted to know if this man knew them, but held his tongue.