A few pools of blood. Several severed chords. Signs of a struggle. Galen found these in a dark clearing, but he had no idea where to go from there. Something had happened, probably involving an escaping group of people. He smelled something like Tybalt, but the rank stench of festering blood prevented him from finding a distinct direction to head off to next. He flew up into the sky above, searching for any signs of life. Something had gone horrible wrong. Or right. How could he know?
"HELLO?!" He yelled into the distance.
His call did not echo in the night.