Stone Circle "Swing for the fences, son." he must have told you once.

Ever since the fight along the borders of Easthollow, Merrit had taken to regular patrols around their perimeter. Securing their fragile remains, thinking, pondering, the future of his family, the threats nearby. Protecting, and guarding. His months outside the wilds had both tamed and tempered him, so that he was neither the soft child his mother had borne, nor the erratic tempest of his youth. He stood somewhere in between, now. Controlled, despite the vexing storm he still quieted every hour, it seemed.

That storm that spiralled and threatened now.

"Hello," he said, stepping from the swath of trees on Easthollow's ground that led towards the hill the stranger stared up and up upon. His nostrils flared; caught the scent. Riddled with darkness, and vile things. He placed it like a nightmare that followed one into the daylight, even upon waking. "You are from Ursus. Welcome to Easthollow," he said. He ought to kill the child, and sever the evil of Ursus' blood. Instead, he paused, and lowered himself to sit.