Yinglets Ripped My Flesh
Like most pack-oriented lifeforms,
yinglets may be weak and vulnerable when alone, but if the pack is threatened, they will form groups and overwhelm a larger target without fear or hesitation. A few will probably die, but the pack will undoubtedly emerge victorious.
This phenomenon is the main reason that yinglets are at least tolerated, if not especially liked in human cities; antagonizing one, or a group of them too much, can lead to the antagonist being chased down, picked apart, and oftentimes eaten.
Their distress cry isn’t something they can activate at will; it only rises to the surface when a yinglet enters a fight-or-flight stage and feels it is in mortal danger.
The amount of help, and/or the anger of the little mob, can vary due to the yinglet in particular crying out (i.e. if one isn’t liked, and/or has done nothing of worth for the enclave as a whole, then the rest may just gather to watch it get kicked around and laugh).
Due to a few tense situations shortly after the yinglets first arrived near Val Salia, they now tend to find out a little about the aggressor before going wild on them, such as if they had a good reason for harming the yinglet in question, or if they are, for example, members of a Great House who might burn down the entire enclave if one of their own was attacked. (It’s been burned down a few times already, but it’s usually back within a week.)
Woe to the fool who causes a female to cry out, for the species’ entire survival depends on the safety of their females, and they will descend upon the victim in a frothing rage.
I won’t often make two Field-Guide-style comics right next to each other, but while drawing the next page of the comic, I realized that knowing this little tidbit about yinglets beforehand would make a big difference.
And for anyone who doesn’t get the reference, just Google “Ripped My Flesh Man’s Life”