[p] i drink to death and smack my lips with song

[Draugr Helsi]

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Draugr is by Haley!

The dark-hued woman listened with cupped ears to the voice of the other canine, trying and failing to discern an accent in her words. Dra herself spoke as her mother did -- flatly, and with the midwestern accent that was not so uncommon as to be terribly out of place here. Aesthetic appeal was something the Tradesman understood, albeit in a rudimentary way. She was preparing to suggest the stranger might like a fire to warm her limbs, when it occurred to her that she did not have the necessary tools to build a fire, and wood would be difficult to come by. There were few trees lining these suburban streets.

Dra was still considering when the woman spoke, words that stunned the wolfdog into almost immediate speech, though it tapered off immediately. I -- she faltered, staring at the other woman openly. How could she have misspoken so? Panic arose in her at this new situation, one she hadn't encountered yet in her time on the earth. What was she supposed to do now? The woman was silent for a beat longer than was normal, and her jaw worked, clenching and unclenching, as a sign of her disquiet. And suddenly the answer came to her, brilliant and shining as a piece of metal catching the sun. She smiled, composure flooding back into her quite suddenly.

She was a Tradesman of Salsola, and she might profit here yet. Though the woman was small of size and not particularly physically impressive, she was young -- and Draugr knew better than all the rest how malleable youth was. This girl, concerned with her gloves and the aesthetic of the world, might yet be shaped into a useful member of Salsola. Dra did not even consider that the friendliness and youthful ways might yet be an act on the stranger's part -- but perhaps all the better, for the Tradesman was fully convinced of the multi-hued wolf's sincerity.

I do, she agreed. It's a good place -- there are strong canines. The weak do as their told or... don't, the hybrid said, emphasizing the word "don't" in a peculiar way. She had seen the results of a slave revolting against its master: crippled Darijus, poor beast, had dared rise up against his betters. I'm not sure if you'd like it, though? One must be very strong to find a home there in the first place. Dra herself at least looked the part of strength -- though small in her own perspective, she was a large example of a woman, and took after her mother at least in a small part.

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