Stephen
**Maren Tockett
Outskirts of a large town**

The cold air bit at her skin, her tangled mop of hair being pushed back by her skinny hand. Her body ran with occasional shivers as it tried to keep warm in the unforgiving chill. She was lucky she hadn't lost her toes to frostbite yet.

Her surroundings were bleak, the rocky shoreline and roiling ocean were simply different shades of grey. The town behind her was still alive, the sounds of horse carts and trades going about were present quietly behind her. People stayed away from her, afraid of who she was and why she had arrived. That was to be expected, not often do people survive the Witherland wilds, let alone a young child. She kept to herself anyway, sitting on a large rock and watching the waves crash against the shore.
Steven
Tiny Vik
Some city somewhere, The Witherlands

Vik was *Freezing*! Why anyone would live in such a place was beyond him. The minuscule man walked barefoot along the snow, having come to this place to study this Plague that was sweeping his swamp and the rest of Marin. The town proved useless, the people not affected by the sickness were too afraid to answer a midget in a golden Mask's questions, and the ones who were sick already wouldn't last the trip back to his funland.

Vik sighed as he left the town, walking towards the coastline so he could get some salt for his sandwich. He loved salt, but he forgot to bring some for his lunch.

As he approached the coastline he noticed a huddled mass that appeared to be smaller than most sick people. Vik waddled up to the bundle of furs before plopping down next to the water.

"Hello there!" Vik said, his pennywhistle voice breaking the silence as he began scooping water into a pot.
Stephen
**Maren Tockett
Outskirts of a large town, The Witherlands**

Maren squeaked, not expecting Vik's sudden greeting. She looked over at him with wide eyes, her teeth still chattering. She furrowed her brow and finally got to take in the view. A small masked boy. Man? He was the size of a child but he definitely didn't sound like one. 

"Ha... Hello." She replied, pulling her furs closer. She was in a state of surprise from even being spoken to, let alone a little gold man. She watched him scoop the frigid ocean water, her pigeontoed feet shifting.

Her small voice was barely audible over the tumbling waves, and so she spoke up, a little louder a he could hear her. 

"Hello...!"
Steven
Tiny Vik
Somewhere in the Witherlands I don't know.

Vik was humming to himself as he poured the collected water into his tiny cauldron, the tune having bo rhythm or melody, just a collection of notes and beats that were tossed together at random. Vik hadn't spoken to a child since Mikhail, and this one promised to be much more entertaining. 

"How are you today? What brings you to this popsicle of a wasteland?" Tiny Vik set the cauldron aside and dug inside his patchwork bag, searching through the smorgasburg of chaos to find his tinder and flint so he could start boiling the seasoning and get on with his food.
Stephen
**Maren Tockett
Witherlands**

She shuffled slightly, unsure of how to respond. She but her bottom lip, crossing her arms tighter and scooting forward on the rocks.

"Uh... I..." *She didn't know what to respond with, stuttering. She placed her feet down on the ground, the shale like rocks sounding like broken glass beneath them. She still sat on the rock, but now she seemed prepared to dart if need be.

"I don't know." She squeaked out meekly, loud enough to be heard. She looked down the coastline, at the endless coast and icy ocean.
Steven
Tiny Vik
A rock on the coast

"What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know how you are? For instance I'm hungry and cold, and you are... Blank!" The mannerisms of Vik were often seen as strange and off putting, even to him at times, but he gave up trying to control his own mind long ago. The minute magic user began assembling his small cooking fire by teepeeing the sticks and dried leaves together, looking at his work but seeming focused on his words more then anything.

"My name is Tiny Vik, what's yours?"
Stephen
**Maren Tockett
Rock**

Maren watched him gesture, and she awkwardly listened to him go in about how to carry on a conversation. She pursed her lips as he stacked his sticks and twigs. Her name. Funny. It was *Almost* Her country. 

"Maren..." She replied, and then remembered his first question. "And I'm cold..." She added. She was. Very cold.
Steven
Tiny Vik
I'm running out of jokes for locations

Tiny Vik giggled at the obviousness of her reply, the chilling sound wasn't nearly as effective if it wasn't coming from the void where his mouth should be.

"Well Maren, I have an extra blanket, would you like it? Or perhaps I should construct my fire a bit larger?" Vik opened his bag again, prepared to retrieve either wood or fur depending on the reply.
Stephen
**Maren Tockett
Just say Rock**

Maren glared at the blanket and the sticks, pushing herself completely up off the rock and walking over to Vik, matching his height. She poked her fingers together nervously, her dirty face showing an expression of anxiety.

"I... Can... Can... I please have both?" She said quietly, now close enough to be heard without speaking up. Truly her voice was like powdered sugar, light and sweet. She blinked her near golden eyes at Vik, closing her hands together in a pleading motion. She even did a slight curtsy.