The Sunspire boy peeling a fruit

She did not denounce him for his words, nor drive him away. In fact, the woman seemed rather unaffected. Hopefully that did not spell his doom, but Caravaggio could only wish, and see what fate had in store for him. He nodded as she mentioned his usefulness, wide-eyed for a moment, but silent. And then as she asked for his name, he was quick to give it - Caravaggio. A mouthful, I'm sure. His ears flicked back, and he looked away, knowing full well that his parents had named him something ridiculous. But it suited him too, in a way. Maybe she would come to know that. "But I am more than my name. I do wish to show you." He was thoroughly enamored by the mountain already; moreso by the dark woman, but that was something he would figure out at a later time.