Well, sarcasm and snippiness. You certainly find things in places where you’d least expect them, don’t you? Mara was a little relieved, however, that Gaal was capable of having a personality further than just a gigantic single minded creature. Why? Because single minded creatures often usually only want to fight. Sure, they may have multiple things on their agenda, but usually that leads to fighting and, at this moment, there was no way she wanted to tangle with something as agile looking as him. She honestly couldn’t remember, in all of her travels, something that looked as completely agile and dangerous at the same- wait, scratch that. She’d gone up against a smooth furred creature with wings that had muscles and the reflexes to booth. Now, that had been one hell of a fight. Thankfully, she’d had a band of disposable companions with her that had taken the brunt of the blows and distracted it while had got into the killing blow. Ohhh that was a good fight.<br/><br/>She shook herself back to the conversation, mildly surprised she’d been able to not fixate on Gaal for a moment; it wasn’t like her to space out in the presence of something potentially hazardous.  She listened to his last questions, and her bright expression dropped a little. “Do I look like I am afraid of forest lurkers and bandits?” She couldn’t help the deflated tone in her voice, having been asked that question quite a few times in a million different ways, normally after the statement that came second in line for Gaal. “Before you make an assumption,” Mara began, “let me just answer a few of the questions that normally follow. No, I don’t have a band of brothers that I fight with. No, I wasn’t raised with any brothers. No, I am not fighting to avenge my father’s death, nor my mother’s, and no sister’s or brother’s either. No, I am not running away from some arranged marriage which estranged me and left me to this life. No, I am not an orphan who grew up with a band of pirates, marauders, bandits, or wolves. And, for the love of all, no I am not in search of a quiet place to live my life.” There, now that those were all out of the way, she took a deep breath in. “Yes, I am a mercenary for hire and it is because I am dirt poor due to the fact I like drinking, enjoy betting, and I am not good at any other trade including but not limited to playing an instrument, singing, or sewing.”<br/><br/>Sure, he might not have needed the spiel but the woman was sick of people assuming that there was some story, some great reason she was what she was. Of course, that was up until they found out she was half-dwarf. Theeennnn suddenly everything made sense. Of course she’d be fighting and an outcast then. Ugh, normal people and their way of thinking just absolutely annoyed her. Mara actually looked a bit distracted while all this went through her head. Close to brooding, in fact. Her brow had furrowed and her gaze had trailed off to some random patch of forest to the right while her mind wandered. The poor thing just couldn’t keep too many lines of thought open at once and, since they were all tapped out at the moment, she was obviously zoning off from the fact she’d been holding a conversation at all.<br/><br/>Mara, remembering she’d been talking, quickly worked to catch up with his questions. “And, yes, you are unlikely to find many woman like me, I am aware of that. Fragile ninnies give the rest of us a bad name,” she snorted. “Back to your first question, I’m working. I’m out here on a bounty for a Minotaur. Market where I come from is a bit competitive and the pay is shit, so finding someone to work with near impossible and finding someone who will work with you and not try and kill you for your half of the pay is even harder.” She rolled her shoulders back and her back gave a few clicks as it moved back into position, “I am quite accustomed to this.” Mara had gotten used to being alone, not only because of the jobs, but because of what she was. Humans seemed to have a way to sniff out her difference and, eventually, it came up. Alllways came up. Then, that’s when the usual half-breed banter started and the fight broke out. Having had enough of that in her life, she’d become used to being alone and, quite frankly, that was just fine with her.<br/><br/>“And what about you? Not that you look like you need any help. Your, uh, kind just travel alone?” There were plenty of beasts who lived by themselves their whole lives, so she figured it was enough of a possibility.