[There is a very tall, green, muscular man walking through the roads of Luceti. He's got the wings and the journal under his arm, so he must be a new feather, but he hasn't yet made use of his journal, it seems. Despite that, he appears to have a good idea of where he's going, turning right where he needs to go in order to reach the center of
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She stays crouched down as she studies him, light growls escaping.]
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Greetings, sister. Might I have your name?
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But she stays silent. Just because you're an orc doesn't make you any different, man. 8| Silent treatment is a go!]
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Was there something you wanted to ask?
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Come on out, child. I mean you no harm.
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Woah.
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Yes, young one?
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I mean you no harm.
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