Whatever circumstances that led Nyx to this particular location were currently on the back burner. This certainly wasn't any form of an afterlife or at least like any he had been told growing up or promised when listening to preachers over the years on city streets.

Rather unfortunate, if he had to admit. Nyx struggled to believe in the all warmth and happiness of an afterlife filled with embraces from lost loved ones due to a more practical mindset but it was impossible to deny that there could -- no, SHOULD be something. Everlasting peace maybe?

Who knew. He worked too hard in life to be handed this shit as a reward.

Regardless, this wasn't exactly the venue for existential thoughts about gods and afterlives.

Separating from the general group as he needed to get his head in check led him to finding a large heap of feathers. Monsters weren't a positive but the face of frightened children was something Nyx couldn't pass over regardless of species.

He shrugs out of his Glaive coat which still bore the marks of battle but it was all he had. He approaches the harpy, kneeling down to offer the coat out.

"You're cold. Take it. It looks like shit but it's still warm."