Redsand Canyon Rolói

The woman continued to speak, her tone casual and easy to understand. The Greek man had never met someone like her. He wondered if she had been unfortunate enough to be born with a deformity. As his glacial eyes roamed her shape, he couldn’t help but think that was what caused her coat to sit so close to her flesh, and for her jowls to hang from her face like the body of fallen prey.

When the woman praised him, Arsenio flagged his tail.

She wished to know where he had come from. She also seemed to think that he was striking in his looks. The mercenary wasn’t certain how to respond to her forward nature. The man wasn’t bothered by it, no. He simply hadn’t found himself in the company of someone who offered themselves with such ease.

I am from a mountain by the sea, far from here. It is a place of strength. Ah, but I do not belong to those people anymore. Arsenio shrugged, suggesting that he didn’t care too much for talk of his homeland. There were not many things that he missed from the peak.

I am called Arsenio. Have you a name? the mercenary inquired with a casual tilt of his head.