He studied her a long moment, head turning a fraction, eyeballing her sidelong. Noting the subtle shift as he regarded her question.

"The only young I saw were at the horn." He gestured toward it, an imposing shadow in the distance. "Whether any lived, I cannot say."

(And it bothered him distantly, like an itch just out of reach. Grown warriors, uneven unwilling was one thing. But children, not even old enough to ascend....)

He frowned.

"Why are they here? Are they deviates?"