...and, if it's not really me? What then?

The scream could be heard from down the beach. Gil had been minding his own business when the sound caught his attention. One ear flicked as he noticed Urtur begin to bristle. In a single moment, The Raid King was on alert. His head lifting, ears perking up, fur beginning to puff up around his scruff. Whoever was making a racket needed to settle down or answer to him. Concerned that trouble was at paw when another scream let loose, Gil put down what he was working on and took off down the beach. At an easy lope, his paws ate up the sand until he saw the familiar form of Rivin. She appeared... visibly upset, but alone. Was she screaming at herself?

His brow furrows as his pace slows and he approaches the girl. "Rivin," he states simply, but the affliction of his tone is there. The concern of someone who saw the girl as a daughter figure even if she wasn't his by blood. "Something the matter?" Gil continues to assess her, his head tilting lightly as he notices the harrowed expression on her enraged features.