Ahmaht, who had been lost in thought for most of the trip, was leaning up against a tree a short distance away from the lake. He had been staring off over the sparkling water for some time, though when he noticed that Larea had apparently hurt herself, he had already crossed most of the beach and had been staring at her hand as Zelgodis healed her. When she started to cry, he stood over her for a few moments, kneeling down and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. He looked at her with kindness, giving her a reassuring squeeze with his arm. "It will all be okay,<span style="font-style: italic">meryt</span>," he said gently. He glanced up at Sigrun, who was draping her mantle over a wolf he hadn't noticed approach. He stood up, crossing the distance between him and the purple-haired knight rather quickly and quietly. The wolf had something encrusted on it's torso, most likely being wounded. The wolf didn't look like it was feeling well, either. "Sigrun, be careful. Wounded animals are the most dangerous kind." He fished the remainder of the bread out of his jacket, about a quarter of the original loaf still intact. He approached the wolf slowly, holding the bread out to it. He murmured something in a gentle voice to the wolf, speaking in his native tongue. He slowly reached his other hand out for the wolf to smell.