Having been out for an early morning stroll, dew-gathering and assessing the state of the forest, Daenan was surprised to find a commotion brewing upon his return. He'd heard the figure but imagined it only to be Grigori chilled from the cold and insensible enough to not dress properly. He did not know from the laborious breathing that it was a newcomer until the figure was visible in the fog. It had been his intention to return with a harvest of roots and seeds which he could boil in a pot to make a passable soup for the trio. A sort of chirping, squeaking sound emanated from an inside pocket of his coat and he whispered gently to the being therein. "It's okay. Just a lost soul." The noise continued until a berry was pressed into the pocket, then subsiding quickly.<br/><br/>Coming into view of the "campsite", as he liked to call it, Daenan found the other two out and about. Obviously they had been more alert than he. His attention had been focused on relaxation and the gathering of what passed for food. He approached them and in his generally soft tone asked "What's this about, then?" He figured that they, having been close at hand would know more than he.