Fear radiated from him. Eyes nervously flickering toward each skulking figure which seemingly passed him by, ever watchful of these strangers even when some were nothing more than a conjuration of a stricken mind. Yet no matter how one may wish to flee back into the cloaked safety of the wilds there was reason for coming here. These peculiar beasts, or rather, the stalls they tended held materials needed. Steels heads for arrows a blessing. Quicker to bind without needing to first fashion them from stone or bone, their tips always promising to be sharp. Piercing.

All it really came down to was a matter of payment.

Glimmering coin stolen from where others so carelessly dropped it upon the cobbles or, on occasion, by parting with pieces of prey beasts. The latter one the crow preferred not for so much of it could be used - a lot of it was needed to survive. Hides and fur to take the place of bedding, larger bone for makeshift blades or pins for fabrics of camp, the meat itself filling not only his own belly but Cricket’s as well with a majority of the more questionable organs pawned off on the best as well. It was better not to share with those who knew not its value.

This night sacrifices had to be made. Metallic talons curling ever tighter, possessively, about a carefully wrapped package. One concealing a hefty chunk of boar meat. Hopefully one with the blazing fire and heavy resounding clang of an iron hammer was still awake. Perhaps he would consider the same trade Leslie had struggled through vocalizing upon their last meeting but, if one was remembered, at least this time he would not have to struggle so hard for the proper phrases.

However, one could only grow disheartened as quiet steps traversed the dimly lit streets. Many of those once lively structures now darkened by shadow, a mere flicker of candlelight dancing within the housing nearby while buildings of greater volume bore much more vivid lighting. Yet they were not what was sought. “Ithquenti xsiol,” curse mumbled under his breath. It was likely he’d come to late in the evening which only sparked his reluctance to remain to grow ever stronger at the thought. He could check back tomorrow. Come in the morning and linger if needed to ensure a bargain could be made but until such a time presented itself the woods called his name.

A path eagerly shifting to return from whence he came, only for paces to stop dead in their tracks. Cricket nearly colliding into him at this sudden stop as questioning chirp sounded from the young draconian’s maw. Scaled crown tilting as they gave the feathered one a once over before chasing his gaze. One fixated on a stranger upon the docks and the creatures seemingly perched at her side. Reptilian features, multiple heads sprouting from a singular body, hydra. And yet while a beast treasured should have held the boy’s gaze it was another he became glued upon.

For the crow bristled at the very sight of a hound. Wanting to pull back and vanish into the shadows as if he’d never even beheld the drake nestled beside her. Distrust, unease, terror; it all fluctuated so vibrantly upon his essence - something he tried so hard to subdue, to reign in for he knew all too well how wolves could sense such things. Weakeness they were ever eager to pick apart. Yet there is a passing boldness found beneath that fleeting sense of familiarity found when looking upon another draconic. His steps unhurried, hesitant in his approach as lyrics fell upon shaken breath. Believing this one may find understanding behind them, “Ui batobot jaesk de gasak tenpiswo? Svabol ui asta ominak?”

Terror froze him into place the moment a canine lurched from where it lay. Eyes glued upon the hound while false talons coiled tightly to the packaged meat in hand, puncturing that once carefully bound flesh. His heart racing as breath dared to grow unsteady the longer he fixated upon the beast for even while paws did not stride forth to confront him, its very presence stirred discomfort. Agitated memories of time the crow could not forget.

Worry clouded his mind, threatened to override all else he wished to accomplish from such an approach, send him back the way he came before even thinking to engage with one who cradled a draconian youth so tightly. Panic surged within his veins and yet no matter how one may quiver a voice still called out in hopes for even a glimpse of understanding. Only to be met with the same confusion every other soul offered in this realm. It reflected so clearly in her eyes, mixing with the uncertainty of beholding the lost.

It was foolish to hope for more.

At least until attentions flickered more to to the trio of crowns, watchful of the way each tilted and peered toward him. Whatever frantic notions had once seized their conscious apparently dimming into contentment as their limbs ceased their scrambling. Yet they did not speak. Not to him anyways for where there had once been a stark sign of not knowing came a sense of recognition as her fingers stroked each reptilian skull which vied for her affections. However, the tone which fled her lips hardly pierced the crow’s mind, leaving a visage to scrunch behind adornment as if it may twist the very lyrics into a tongue understood.

This land’s native language one he should learn and yet distrust bid him not to interact with one long enough to ask. Leaving the boy with little grasp over it and this not knowing brought him to shift in place. Nowhere to truly hide out on the pier lest he chose to duck behind the very hatchling who looked on with an unbound sense of excitement toward one cradled. A delighted chirp reverberating within the dragon’s throat as they attempted to beckon a ‘captive’ playmate to wriggle free. However, whether the hydra would listen to the shameless pleas of a fellow youth remained to be seen.

Matters Leslie did not focus on as he attempted to grasp those winding lyrics. Mother, caring, no name to give. No ominak. Noticeable distress plagued the crow as he struggled to find understanding, attentions flickering to Cricket as if they alone knew such phrases despite only ever speaking with him upon a reptilian tongue. Yet all he was met with was a clicking purr of reassurance as the dauntless beast danced impatiently at his side. Insistent on getting this new found draconian to their level. So instead focus turns more toward the cradled youth to ask it alone what calling it may hold, at least if such an honor would be bestowed.

“Svabol ominak tepohaic tiichia dout crown jaesk?” A moment of silence given before eyes flickered back toward the woman, thinking back to what she had said all while fingers still clung tightly to what lay in hand to prevent giving in to desires of letting arms cross protectively before him. Thoughts racing. Mother? What happened to mother? Is that what she wished to know? At such assumptions a frown creased unseen lips as crimson gaze averted, watchful of Cricket as he spoke, “Asta dask ui nelith zyak si mi ahfvenir doege di Cricket halkvri sia sulta.” Short shaken breath sounding before those eyes dared return to the stranger, “Wer mior dreikic plyna vi kehlash kagh jaciv jahus slain, oli for svabol dril si tir ti vucot. nomagqe for jacioniv denthanus citrel wer leirith ini shripomn.”