[h3]Domhnall[/h3]

	The young fellow seemed confused at his remark, which did not bode well. Unless whatever planning they'd had had been hopelessly overturned by whatever mess the lot had gotten into and their greeter here had arrived[i] after [/i]the rest of the party, there was no change someone would miss a freaking half-lion, half-dragon four times the bulk of a horse...
	[i]...And what if he'd pulled his cloak a bit closer to himself?[/i] the foresfolk mused to himself. He was wearing a shirt, a vest, no cold metal, [i]and[/i] a coat, [i][b]and[/b][/i] an Iridiel, and [i]he [/i]was still bloody freezing his fingers off, quite unlike the young black-eyes who seemed to mistake the bleary damp autumn misery for a lovely summer afternoon. [i]Wait, the leader!?[/i] 
	He glanced at the boy. 
	[i]"The man riding the beast Domhnall described is the leader now,”[/i] Jaeldric or what was he corrected the greeter grimly. [i]“The woman – a daywalker – and him went ahead of us earlier; they should have come through already.”[/i]
	So there had been some infighting in the group? It took the robed fellow, seemingly not much older than the younger black-eyes, a disturbingly long time to reply. But he did seem to make things click in the end, and explanations ensued. The forestfolk could not divert his full attention to the conversation, though, as a distinct [i]voice[/i] cut over the bustle. 
	Domhnall's body jerked slightly, his expression slacking and brow furrowing as he turned his head, eyes scanning the surroundings. [i]Claw?[/i] He had thought their new acquaintance did not quite sound fond of their imminent destination, yet he was announcing his intention of ... joining them? In any case, he was coming and a rather distinct, and perhaps alarming to the uninitated, fellow oneself. 
	The robed lad had moved on to explaining something about a man who had been cured of the withering, which, although no doubt important, could tolerate being asked questions over a few moments later [i]after[/i] they had sorted out any potential confusion over yet another new arrival. 
	[i]"Pardon?"[/i] he cut in after the lad's declaration of miracles, loud enough to jolt the weary refugees and make a couple of heads turn. "There's ano'er of us arrivin' [i]soon[/i]. Twice as tall as I am, and three times as broad, black fur, wears braids? Figured I ough' tae warn the guards aheed o' time, at leas'."