<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/72/Slave_Masako.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Lynnara</div><div class="spoiler_body">HP 19/19<br/>HD 2/2d10<br/>Favored Foe 2/2<br/><br/>Spellcasting:<br/>L1:  ☐ ☐<br/></div></div></div></div><br/>Lynnara was silent for a time, taking all this in with silence.  However, at this point, she felt like she had something to say.<br/><br/>"There's an old story from my tribe," she explained.  "A horn, passed down from chieftain to chieftain.  When one chieftain became too old to handle matters - it's rare for wood elves, but it happens - the old chieftain would choose the new one, whoever they thought would be best."<br/><br/>She took a breath, explaining quickly as best she could.  "One day, the chieftain blew the horn because of the various problems coming up.  No one understood why or expected it, because he was still young.  It was because he felt he could not handle everything, he needed help, and thus, he thought he had disgraced himself and the tribe."<br/><br/>Lynnara then smiled.  "No one else saw it that way, though.  He needed help, and he asked for it.  There's no shame in not being able to do everything yourself.  It..."  She tugged on the necklace of a T-Rex tooth, then paused, then decided she doubted she was making her point all that well to begin wtih.<br/><br/>"What I want to say: is this a situation where the leader needs help and doesn't feel entirely comfortable in asking for it?"