"Ogres? How do you know there are.. oh nevermind..." she sighs.

"Great. That fact alone reduces the chance of the cadet being alive tremendously... Can only hope the ogres didn't find him, or else he'd be stew already..."

"Well, I don't suppose they might be bargained to part with what amounts to used soup bones?" she asks, her attention drifting hopefully toward Mor'Lag, up until she also admits that she, well, probably would not be well-received either.

Another - this time - more long, drawn out, utterly-exasperated sigh.

"I don't know. Just make up some distant clan but also have some believable reason to be along with us or something. Or just don't say you were disowned! Better yet, we may just want to avoid them. I don't mind venturing south, just to be sure, but.. I think it would be a terrible idea to get too close."