Silvertip Mountain Traveling alone

The dark woman appeared moderately amused by him, but this did not offend the pirate. He would prefer that he amuse the pretty company as opposed to insulting them. Still, she questioned his reasoning and he wondered if she was testing the waters with him. It seemed that she had either known the wilds in the past, or she had lived there for some time. This was the only real rationality in her statement. The wild woman was not wrong, though; the kind of wolves that Smokestep sought were hard to come by. Still, when he found them... he had never been unimpressed with the beasts who had vowed themselves to his crew. The corsair did not imagine that he ever would be.

A crinkly grin curled his features and exposed his teeth. Kingfisher snickered at her remark and nodded his head a few times. “Ho, well yer not wrong thar, miss,” the ghost admitted with a good-humored wag of his tail. “I'm about the roughest sea urchin this side o' the mountain.” At this, the wily seafarer cast her a good-humored wink of his crimson eye. “An yer just getting' yerself a sneak peak.” With all of his confidence, the pallid marauder often started to become lacking in conversation with those who chose to dwell inland.

“An what o' yer kind, misses? What lofty position have ye run down from to chat with the likes o' this sea salt?”