I think it would be funny if someone that believes the Eastborne rumors shows up but not required!

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Lun was upset. It was the only reasonable explanation for whatever was happening. The moon hung vivid and red in the sky, the only source of light, and Cyris was sure they could feel their throat close with the weight of the fear they felt every time they looked up at it.

What could have made her this upset, enough to cause such a reaction, was unknown to them. They had seen signs of her anger before. They had done their fair share of trying to appease her when they could. This was new, though, and being new meant they had no way of settling the goddess's nerves. Not any that they could think of.

As they paced, mostly shrouded by the dark, an awful little thought lingered in the back of their mind. What if she was hurt or worse? What if the odd coloration of the moon was one last desperate plea for help?

No. No, that wasn’t-

Something cracked near them, and they stilled, completely, trying to search for the source in the dark.

The crimson moon hanging high in the sky was yet another oddity in this new land and Jarek snorted at the lack of light. He'd never been one for religion or beliefs. Any significance it may have was lost on the brute, and so, all it did for him was make it difficult to see. He’d grown used to the twists and turns around the immense, dilapidated building, having found it to be decent enough of a shelter, and so even in the darkness, he trod without much trouble. The faint squeeze of hunger tugged at his belly. Hunting tonight would be out of the question.

The large canine moved to where he’d left the remains of his last meal; various bones of a badger lay scattered in the corner of a small room. The wall that once separated this room from the wilds outside had long since fallen, leaving it open. Jarek bent, snout to the cold stone floor, and sniffed toward a long bone – likely a femur, though he couldn’t tell for certain in the inky black interior – and scooped it up into his mouth. He could taste the vague hint of flesh still on the bone, despite having cleaned it well the day before.

Jarek considered returning to his favored room to crunch away at the ivory stick, but a slight breeze caught his attention. Something there, on the air; a scent. It was canine enough. Jarek paused and inhaled deeply, staring through the crumbled wall into the wood. The red moon allowed little to no sight from his position. His interest had been piqued. He’d seen no other canines since his arrival to this land.

He stepped from the stone castle and began his descent into the trees, bone in mouth. The scent grew closer. Instinctively, his fawn tail rose, lifting above his hips, the tip curling in on itself, and he felt his body tense as a figure seemed to appear within the moon’s glow.

Jarek chose to step into a small cast of dim, red-hued light. His eyes cast in shadow beneath his heavy brow. With no care to the sound of it, the bone was dropped. It rolled into a pile of deadened leaves with a soft crunch.

Aye, who are you?

His voice was deep and full of gravel. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke aloud, and his throat had grown rusty.