Shadow Mountain I am the voice inside your head

She was an oddball, this one. He could tell from the moment she opened her mouth. Yet, she was outwardly friendly enough -- however, that meant little in the Eyjolfur's experiance. He was wary of those he hardly knew, but he believed himself to be a skillful reader of one's intent. After all, growing up in Schugkill instilled certain instilled certain qualities. So too had he learned from his brutish siblings. The strong survived. The weak... well, the weak had their place as well.

This one meant no harm.

He cleared his throat and straitened himself before her. "I'm fine," he answered. Though she had cut close to bowling him over when she fell, she had yet to touch him. Fine. it was such a clinical word. Was he truly fine? Outwardly perhaps, but otherwise he wasn't entirely sure. Little lies like these were so common, slipping from the tongues of innocent men without thought. Yet, Nails Eyjolfur was no innocent man.

"Things have gotten really fucky lately," he went on after the mention of the shaking earth. "I was hoping it wouldn't be so bad up here but --" his voice tapered off. It was a shrug of silence. "-- Guess not."

It was the fucking end times, Nails was sure. "You ain't running with a group, are you?" Nails asked. "Figured i'd try and get shit together before things get hairy." Before the prey died off, he supposed. It was only a matter of time.