Sun Mote Copse verlamming

It quickly became clear to Fin that the stranger was not in great shape. It wasn't because of his movements--she assumed any tension in his frame was due to the situation and not becaues he was physically unwell. No, she was basing her assumption on the way he spoke. The guy had clearly had a stroke because he was muttering absolute gibberish at her.

The Blackthorn frowned as he yammered slowly. She picked out a couple of words here and there, like help and den and better. He also seemed to keep referring to something as being dank. Like a dank bed. Like he needed help finding a den with a better dank bed in it. His bed wasn't dank enough? Fin shook her head.

"I didn't... What now?" she canted her head and peered at him with a quirked brow. Maybe she'd glean more the second time around. Or she'd become more confused. It was a toss up.