Hushed Willows Drifter

The whole thing was weird. The bird started making noises at him, shuffling and clearly troubled by his presence. Taikon pushed back a sneer, not wanting to insult a faerie on the borders of his home. The boy seemed confused more than anything, listening to what he said but not seeming to grasp the intensity and despair of the situation.
It wasn't his fault. The boy didn't speak a name, but it didn't matter. He was likely trying his best. Again, the white male didn't know what he had expected. He had hoped perhaps to meet someone of rank who could hear his words and make him feel like he had done the right thing. Now, of course he had to explain all of it. Who the hell was this kid with the bird?
Taikon answered the questions, annoyed at this poorly spoken half-wit of a child. He raised his head to speak.
Yes, the river flooded and we are all homeless. His words felt sharp on his tongue, though he said nothing of insult or disrespect. His body felt tense. Dante told me that the Court and Whitebark are—, he paused for several seconds, shuffling a paw on the moist earth anxiously. were allies. I worry that the Saints are still a threat, and now we cannot help should the rogues appear on your doorstep, he explained.
The boy was trying. Taikon was really just redirecting everything he felt into some odd form of disappointment. Still, the prince worried about the Saints. He worried what they might do if things were to escalate and the allied packs were slowly disbanded from this shit weather one by one.