"That would be Bethen," Alderic supplied helpfully, distracted in part by his concern at Aeolyn's's news. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of Bethen wandering off into the swamp alone, with night soon to fall. Maybe he'd just been touchy since the bandits (and later the same day, the "dog" and its charming company), but she really ought to take someone with her for safety's sake- as, he reminded himself, any of them should. It wasn't just because she was a mage. She was a Warden now, and that changed things.
He'd just have keep telling himself that until it stuck.
"Excuse me, miss Aeolyn, perhaps I may be stepping out of bounds by suggesting this," he added, a stray thought spooling itself directly into his tongue as he looked back down at the reticent elf, "but you have seemed- ah, withdrawn, since we left Lothering." He paused, regarded the woman awkwardly and resigned to fumble forward with his point, the matter already hanging in the air.
"I'm aware that perhaps not all of our party are the... easiest people to speak to- Maker knows, one of the Legionnaires doesn't even speak at all- but you didn't strike me as a shy woman, back in the village." He smiled at her artlessly, anxiety in his eyes, hopeful that at the very least his concern would not offend. "I only- I just thought perhaps I might encourage you to get to know more of them. We'll all be-"
Whatever he'd meant to add next died in his throat as a familiar voice's cry for help echoed out of the wilds. Alderic dropped the tent kit and had his sword and shield in hand in an instant, his expression flattening into a grim frown. "Stay here," he said to Aeolyn, more gruffly than he might have intended, already starting toward Bethen's voice with a quickening stride that turned into a jog by the time he neared the treeline. Two other shadowed figures proceeded him in his rushed response, the place they'd been resting having been closer from the start to the source of the disturbance, but although he could hear them ahead of him in the foliage he could not see who they were until they emerged into the glow of Bethen's staff just seconds before he did. That the other men turned out to be the Ledaal brothers concerned him less under the circumstances than it would ordinarily- Bethen's safety was at stake, a matter that took infinite precedence over whatever petty feud stood between he and them.
Bethen stood prepared to fight or flee, a defensive gesture directed at a strange woman half shadowed by looming trees- a Wilder by the look of her garb. Of course, smack dab in the middle of things was that damned wolf busy making itself useless as usual. Moving quickly into a fighting stance just before Bethen, designating himself her personal shield, Alderic regarded the Chasind woman with suspicion and prepared to charge her upon the slightest provocation. The Bann asked all the questions of the stranger that were necessary as the men broke onto the scene; the Templar simply asked, "Bethen?" his volume subdued but his tone urgent. It was a query that covered all manner of possibilities with its economy of words: Are you injured? What is happening? What do you need me to do?