The Sentinels Whispering words,

Lionel was right on the nose. They looked like shit. They looked like cat litter in a blender; smelly, disgusting, and so unappetizing he himself might have hurled (like that one time when he'd felt Wylla's eyejuice splatter him). At least now, the tension had ebbed away on his and Lionel's behalf. Umbra was a different story.

He flashed an encouraging beam Lionel's way. "Alright, come on grandma," The Endore tittered, getting ready to hoist Umbra up when he saw another wolf arrive. This one, thankfully, did not have the intimidating complexion of Lionel. It took Sunhawk two seconds to decide he liked her immediately. Of course, it didn't hurt she was beautifully patterned and still carried with her the fresh face of one who had just woken from a nap. Hell, Sunhawk loved naps - they already had things in common!

Sunhawk dialed the wattage of his smile up to ten-thousand kilos of Sirus A level starlight. He didn't even care he looked bedraggled and stank. "Well, pardon us miss...." He waited for Maia to offer her name before continuing in a tone that was dreadfully polite, and dreadfully so very apologetic: "M'name's Sunhawk, but you can call me Sunny if it pleases ya--" You too, Lionboy - "My friend and I here got into a bit of a scuffle over by the cliffs yon. Some lady off her rocker attacked us. We'd no choice but to flee, and I'm not exactly the brawling type. My friend here needs a medic, if you know any. I'd be happy to do whatever I can in exchange for resources."