Kintla Flatlands The voices inside my head, I hate them.

If there was one thing Mordecai was learning very quickly about the Teekon Wilds, it was that it happened to be full of some of the strangest creatures he had the privilege of encountering. Everywhere had them, this he knew, but it had been some time since he had seen such a colorful cast flocking together in the same place. It caused him to weigh his actions differently, wondering when and if, or what would set another off and down a path he himself wasn't so keen on going.

“Huh,” he murmured to himself, righting his head. And then louder so he'd be heard: “All right then. Do that often, do you?” So if this fellow was talking to nothing at all, he couldn't help if he had arguments with himself on a regular basis. Not that talking to oneself was necessarily a bad thing he supposed, as they all did it from time to time. His query wasn't a joke though, and no smile broke across his face in wry wit. He was concerned, and perhaps rightly so. What could he expect from this encounter?