He's seen blight-encrusted tunnels lined with idols made of dwarven bones, but nobody lived in them. And he grew up in a bog—but the bog was green, teeming with life and water, only treacherous to people who didn't know the paths and couldn't read the signs, and home.
So: no. Not really.
But he frowns anyway, stood back from the fire because he's not cold enough to suffer the smoke more than he has to. Beyond him, Buggie is picking irritably at her talons with her beak, long tail lashing to and fro. Beyond her, thunder rumbles.
"Aren't you from this fucking place?" he asks, like these two facts shouldn't be able to coexist.
anderfels
He's seen blight-encrusted tunnels lined with idols made of dwarven bones, but nobody lived in them. And he grew up in a bog—but the bog was green, teeming with life and water, only treacherous to people who didn't know the paths and couldn't read the signs, and home.
So: no. Not really.
But he frowns anyway, stood back from the fire because he's not cold enough to suffer the smoke more than he has to. Beyond him, Buggie is picking irritably at her talons with her beak, long tail lashing to and fro. Beyond her, thunder rumbles.
"Aren't you from this fucking place?" he asks, like these two facts shouldn't be able to coexist.