Knocked back on his heels by the revelation that whoever had trapped the beautiful lythari had skinned her pack-mates alive just to sell their pelts as novelties in Waterdeep and the decadent cities of the Sword Coast, which was to be her fate as well if they hadn’t intervened, the horrified expression on Torryn’s face was enough for Syn to reach the same conclusion. “What kind of a monster would do such a thing?” Syn gasped, sickened by the very thought that anyone could do such a something so cruel to an animal, no less another intelligent being, and one so cherished as the extremely rare race of natural elven lycanthrope no less. “The worse kind of monster… a human!”, Ytharra growled, trying to restrain her justifiable rage. She’d caught his scent at the scenes of his brutality over and over again but had never been in time to save her kin… nor had she been able to track him as he seemed to use some form of magic to come and go. Then, looking desperately around the tent as if searching for something very important, she demanded in an alarmed tone; “Where’s Garuu?” “Garuu?” Torryn questioned back, before he realized she was referring to the large grey wolf which had stalked nearby while they moved her a safe distance from where they found her, and now settled just outside the tent. “Your wolf!?! He seems to have appointed himself to guard duty.” “He’s a loyal friend and companion,” the lythari informed him. But, just then her empty stomach’s angerly chose to change the subject of their conversation. Although it had soothed her body’s aches and pain, the healing potion had done nothing to relieve the hunger of being trapped for two days, which it’s sudden growling revealed to all. “Forgive our lack of manners,” Torryn apologized, as he fished a small bundle of cloth from his pouch and passed it to her; in which she found a small loaf of hard bread, a wedge of cheese, some dried fruit and smoked venison. “It isn’t much… but it’s the best we have until we reach Reitheillaethor.” “When you haven’t eaten in days… this is feast!” Ytharra exclaimed gratefully, but noticed her hosts eyeing her with guarded expressions and sly smiles. Then it dawned on her and she looked down to recognize that when she’d shot upright earlier the blanket that’d been covering her had fallen away, revealing her naked body to their gaze. They were both trying to be politely discreet; but had obviously taken notice. “I’m sorry if my nudity offends you… we lythari shift so freely between our animal and elf forms that we forget other humanoids find our nudity… uncomfortable.” “I’m not offended in anyway,” Syn smirked, now openly admiring her delightfully slender, yet clearly feminine, form with a wicked gleam in her eyes, “and I certainly don’t mind your nudity in the least. What about you, Torryn… does her nudity make you feel ‘uncomfortable’?” The wood elf sighed heavy and made a dramatic show of reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the lythari’s openly displayed beauty before responding; “I have to admit I definitely feel something… but I wouldn’t describe it as ‘uncomfortable’… and I certainly wouldn’t call it ‘offensive’ at all!”