When Ahnasha entered the room, Darahil had been writing something at his desk while the runner was speaking. Her entrance caused him to look up with a look of slight confusion as to why a lycan in its beast form had barged in. The runner was notably less stoic, jolting at Ahnasha's presence.

There were a few seconds where Darahil sat still and simply looked at Ahnasha, digesting the news. He calmly put down his quill and looked to the runner. "You should take lessons from Ahnasha here and get to the point as quickly as she did," he said to the runner, before looking to Ahnasha and standing up. "This is not a good day to have the strongest of the clan's fighters out in the mountains. How long until the enemy reaches us?" Darahil didn't wait for an answer before he walked quickly around his desk and towards the stairs. He gave the runner one last instruction, "You, find Vera in the school chambers, explain the situation quickly, and tell her to meet me in the main chamber." His pace increased, "It is time to call to arms. It has been too long since our home defences have been tested so."

Harriet had already been untying some of her armour while she ran back behind Meesei. The warband gave curious looks at the nature of their arrival.

Oswall breathed in to ask Meesei something, but Meesei spoke first, and her message caused Oswall's eyebrows to lower in anger. "There is what!?" The question would be left unanswered as he immediately turned around and barked at the warband. "All! Hear me! Equipment off!" He gestured to a spot under an outcrop, "Pile it up! Bury it in snow! Prepare to transform! We are needed back home!"

The last detail of Oswall's orders pushed a noticeable rush onto the entire warband as the situation dawned on them. It got to the point where they were virtually tearing off their armour and belts. Weapons, clothing, bags, and other equipment were unceremoniously piled up in the small natural divot under the outcrop. It eventually grew to a size where the hurried attempts at covering it with snow were somewhat futile. This changed when a number of the warband began to shift into their beast forms. With their larger hands doing the work, the snow was shifted in short order until the pile was covered sufficiently. It would not serve in the long term, but they didn't have the luxury to account that far.

Oswall himself sported a beast form that was visibly aged in fur colouration, but no less physically imposing than any other clan lieutenant. He gave a howl to the sky, to which the entire warband joined in. Such a cacophonous peal would be heard for miles around as it echoed off the Jerralls. Oswall then broke into a full sprint on all fours and the warband streamed behind him like a great wave of fur, teeth, and claws. None but Harriet and anyone else not under his rank overtook him in his path, though he was keeping up a blistering pace on his own.

The warband was headed home. Nothing short of divine intervention would stop them now.