Ghost Lion Crag i left my home still as a child

Wraen had hit the right notes, when she had opted to praise the boy, because he looked a lot more pleased with himself and less put off by her whimsical theatricals. For a moment there the Moonspearan strongly resembled someone she knew, but at that point she did not have much curiousity in the ancestry or the exact origins of the man. She wrote the feeling off to the fact that she had 245 finished threads in her threadlog already and that only meant that she had met tons (her writer lost count by the 100th character) of people in her three years of life.

"Don't you see all the white hairs on my head," Wraen arched her eyebrows, as she asked this, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that her coat was mixed with grays, browns and whites. "That's a lovely compliment, thank you," she said it genuinely, without the least bit of sarcasm in her voice, though her inner-self was rocking in laughter at this awkward statement. "Don't mind me snooping more, but are you by any chance the proud offspring of Charon?" she asked.