"My name is Alsavian," says the first cat, who has done all of the talking thus far. He turns to his kin who are speaking in hushed tones. The discussion gets heated, particularly between two of the other members of the band. Alsavian growls a deep baritone which silences all of the other catmen. It means nothing in their tongue, much like a grunt would mean nothing in yours, but it seems to gain the reaction wanted by Alsavian.
He turns back to Ulysses. "We must bind your warriors," he says sturnly looking at Zykovian and Felkhourn, "if they are to keep their arms. We would not allow our chieftan to come to peril because of some "elves'" pride, if you truly are elves." Much sniffing ensues, not sniffing of the rough animalstic sort, but of intelligent creatures that have just caught wind of something.
Several feline ears perk up and heads turn and look out into the forest. The forest grows suddenly quiet and you notice that a small breeze is blowing. Alsavian looks at Ulysses with urgency, "We must leave now. What say you?"
They are clearly on edge about something.