Hideaway Strath in your crypt

The behemoth was surprisingly forward with information.

But then again, so was Desdemona and her whispers.

Of course, that information offered meant to bait them just as well, a trade tit-for-tat and so on. The appropriate name drops that linked up with what he and Hydra had already learned and it left him wondering if all else he had heard about these Saints was truthful. It was a bit ironic that a pack that called themselves The Saints would be accused of what they had been, but he did not pass an immediate judgment either—it was all hearsay, and this meeting would establish and tend to the smouldering embers of what would transpire potentially in the future.

“We come from Moonspear,” he rejoined smoothly, gesturing towards the higher points of the mountain that loomed over all of them. “We’ve heard of this Ursus in the east—is it true what travelers say about them? We’ve also heard similar of yours,” he supplied in turn. “Though even here on this side of the mountain, the tongues of wayfarers are very loose; I’m afraid while you may have chosen wise hunting grounds to hold out against winter you may not find the peace you seek.”

It was bait, perhaps obviously so, but a relative gauge of how they would react.

But there were other packs in the hinterlands—Dirge wondered how they would respond.