[Syrlya glances back from his snow-plowing, and the way even the snow doesn't appear to want to touch Canach's icy attitude gets a grin out of him. He taps the area on his chest where the amulet hangs.] I am keeping in tune with their minds, as well, to better pin-point where the lost may be.

... But yes, part of my concern is those who may be unable to cry out. I thought it best to look where crowds would have dispersed and those without support or direction may have been forgotten.