The druid takes in the explanation concerning the local kobolds, nodding absently; other things are more on his mind. Once Kahmori takes over with this particular kobold, the mousefolk stays quiet, impassively watching; seeming vaguely but unsurprisedly disappointed when the kobold grabs and darts, Chrrou admits a small sigh and starts to settle down again, re-gathering his thoughts. Rubbing his face briefly, the mouse's voice quavers in indecision first before the momentum of his words picks up again.<br/><br/>"Lucky, for having my... friends? Kahmori... They didn't come to<span style="font-style: italic">me</span>. I'd never even seen them until recently, but... well." He takes a deep breath, fingers tracing along the haft of his quarterstaff. "I've kept to myself for a long time-- well, me and Heshaar," he turns to look at the massive wolf before returning his gaze to the kitsune. "And it would've been easier to stay that way, but alone... I might bring hope to a life here and there, I might brighten spirits and help people hold on a little longer, but holding on and getting by aren't enough. This winter will not end. This famine will not lift. I am not enough... and no gathering of heroes was going to find me, throw their lot in with mine. So I found them. ...It hasn't been easy, since then. There've been times I thought we were lost for certain, time's I've thought how much easier some things would have been on my own-- I certainly could have done without spending longer in THIS town than need be," he scowls. "But even though the only difference may be that we die together instead of dying alone... I can't just sit back and wait for someone else to change things, hoping that if I hang on long enough, things will be okay. ...But that's only my choice. Maybe you've thought about things, and arrived... somewhere different. ...One way or another, I'm glad to have heard you." Closing his eyes, the mouse smiles with a more quiet admission, "Just the fact that someone like you is here... that's hope, even if only a little."<br/><br/>The druid's arms fold over his chest as his eyes open again, then narrow. "...But I've tended enough animals in my time to know hunger when I see it. You want food; you should eat. If<span style="font-style: italic">these</span>," he tilts his head toward the sled, "will satisfy you, so much the better that the bodies of the Heodo serve a purpose; if not, let me buy you SOMEthing. For someone who hates to see another go hungry, it seems strange to neglect your own need-- how will you uphold your ideal when your body fails you?"