“Hello companion-Domhnall.” 

Before he continued his greetings, Claw elected to steal a gander directly to his rear. Predictably, many beaten faces, most of them soiled with anxiety and trepidation, met his fierce and unflinching gaze with their own. A few lobbed mild obscenities his way. However “threatened” they may have felt, none of the refugees made any motions to harass or assault Claw, opting instead to give the del’korm a very generous berth as they trudged onward towards their intended destination. Claw found this ongoing spectacle quite amusing, sniggering softly to himself before turning his broad wolf-like head back to face the forestfolk who stood before him. 

“These ones are...different,” Claw enjoyably remarked, casually jabbing a clawed pollex over a furry shoulder at the ever-shifting river of mortal life that flowed noisily around him and into Zerul. “Very different.”

Claw’s attention suddenly fell upon the other members who were accompanying Domhnall. His glare, intensely inquisitive and suddenly devoid of emotion, fell upon the young man with the big sword. 

“Domhnall, who is this one?” Claw stoutly inquired, gesturing an index digit at the teenager.