Chrrou looks back gratefully as Geno keeps close pace with him. He's under no illusions that the bearer of the unknown draconic scent is in any likelihood a 'true dragon', but nevertheless a draconic creature of any kind commands his utmost caution (if not utmost fear or respect), whether of only partial draconic descent or otherwise. After all, even a mouse with part-draconic lineage would be several times stronger and hardier than he; draconic heritage bespeaks power, and power demands carefulness. The fact that Geno is so unequivocably on the side of the Pact is, for him, a source of considerable comfort.<br/><br/>When he reaches the site of the deadly conflict, he speaks for the benefit of the 'nose-blind'. "The ambush," he declares laconically where the scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. "Trolls..." Even though he's certain the survivor wasn't mistaken, he can't help but take a few moments to confirm for himself that Cecil's scent-trail ceases to exist beyond the battleground.<br/><br/>As the party nears the exit of the cavern, Chrrou turns to call back, "Is everyone ready? No last questions, no uncertainties? I'm sorry it sounds... pushy for me to be asking, but once we get going I'm not going to be able to<span style="font-style: italic">talk</span>about these things, really, and I want to be sure that won't be a mistake..." While he moves, he withdraws a tiny non-anthro mouse from an inner pocket, shielding it from the cold and caressing its head tenderly.