Grundar:
That didn't go so well, Grundar mutters to himself, making a mental note to add them to his list to get one over at a later date. Oi, hands off brother, he shouts at one brave who gets too close, a sarcastic edge to the familial description, giving them a glare as they attempt to herd him, We're not your cattle!
This gains Grundar a sharp dig in the ribs from the butt of a spear.
Henal Longgrass:
Henal has kept silent through the speech stony-faced and glowering at the sable braves.
He moves away readily muttering "should leave these lot to the moon worshippers".
Henal has the reins of his mount in his hand, as do his companions.