[Kransha]

The world spun mercilessly as the situation spiraled further. Kalimac, who’d fancied himself in control of the situation, found himself beneath a seething Harfoot with a pulled back fist, namely Harold Chubb. Luckily, before any further physical engagement could occur, an unseen force hauled the Harfoot of him. He remained floored, reclined on the ground in awe and bewilderment as heard the mingled voices of Sarah Chubb, followed soon after by his half-brother, Marcho Bolger himself. Kalimac looked on, seemingly immobilized by simple, outright confusion.

“Would you look at yourselves? All of you!” chided the Fallohide scout, stabilizing the spinning world.

Kalimac, looking oddly dejected, scrambled to his feet like a child caught in a brawl. He promptly began to smooth his ruffled feathers and sweep the dust and soot of earth from his fine clothing. He scowled as his composure returned, the glinting corners of his eyes openly glaring at Fordogrim Chubb. His gaze turned to an ornery looking Sarah Chubb, then his wife, then the defiant employee of his who had taken him so aback by attacking him just now. The Fallohide would’ve continued his avid defense if the scout, Marcho, hadn’t quickly hushed him. He noted that he must’ve missed something in the rustling of his ascension from the ground, since the others seemed to be looking fearfully in the direction of Marcho and the woods. He wasn’t sure what, but he feigned the same befuddlement that he saw in their wide eyes. The eerie silence was broken by Marcho’s dark whisper, “Wolves…” Kalimac didn’t respond, watching as Marcho instantly took charge.

“Estella, Elsa, Sarah. Get the kids and get them to your wagons…now” the scout said urgently. Despite the alarm in his voice and the apparent presence of foul beasts, Kalimac felt like no more could go wrong in this wretched day. As he’d been told, there is sometimes nothing one can do in a situation but grin and bear it, so the resilient Fallohide did. Though it was hard, he managed to crack a grin.

“Alright then,” Kalimac almost interrupted, still dusting himself off disdainfully, “this unhappy incident can be forgotten, I hope.” He turned, looking pleasant again, to his wife, “Elsa, get Alora and Crispin and…”

Kalimac’s eyes had just completed their full scan of the surrounding vicinity. He looked over, rotating on his heels slowly to see all, at the entire area. It was now that he realized, with a mixture of shock, confusion, and horror, that neither of his offspring where anywhere to be seen. He stood, staring out at the others with a hanging jaw for a time before words formed in his mouth.

“Elsa….where are Alora and Crispin?” he murmured, his face slated. Something else had gone wrong.