Strel was a tailor. It was the first sign she'd had that this place might still retain some of the original grandeur its name implied. Her heart sank when he explained he was not being literal, purely because she tended not to understand complicated metaphors and so forth and knew this by experience, but at least, she thought, this would be a chance to practice her comprehension. "I would have been more surprised if it had been true," she answered drily passing her eye over the dusty room, "Still, in truth I suppose a pack's best treasure is in its members." She meant well, meant to imply he seemed like a worthy sort with his tailoring skills and amiable nature, but it left a gap open for her to introduce herself and she had no good appellation to offer. In the end, she settled for "I'm Caspa... newcomer." And then swigged rather violently at the whisky bottle, embarrassed at her lack of title or role.
.fred-caspa { font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size:10px; line-height:15px; padding-bottom:23px; text-align:justify; width: 380px; margin:0px auto;}
.fred-caspa p {text-indent:15px;}
</style>[/html]