<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/tF6BDmd.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rarki (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2592247)<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>'Silver Fork' in Detmer,  Druma<br/><br/><strong>Hit Points/Current:</strong>14/14<strong>AC:</strong>15<br/><br/><strong>Notes:</strong><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spell SLots</div><div class="spoiler_body">(Lvl 1) 3/3</div></div><br/><hr/><br/>Rarki leans back in the chair as Yarila's words spill out about why the Bellflower Network doesn't investigate the situation. "Makes sense. You don't have the hunters farm and the weavers hunt. Everyone has their role in the tribe and the skills to do their roles."<br/><br/>It's Thuran's words that draw a small giggle and smile from her before a frown twists her lips and she slumps slightly. "That's what the Shaman always told me. Listen. Listen to the woods around you. Course that's usually after thumping me with his staff. Always the head too." Her last comment is a low mutter as she rocks on her chair, fangs worrying her lower lip.<br/><br/>The two women piping up has her pausing, ears twitching and head tilting as their words are added in. "What's the words... a more dire situation?" A small giggle slips her as she nods towards the one with glasses. "Demons would be the dire rats while bandits the mice right?"<br/><br/>A hand comes up and thumps against her chest as she turns her focus back to Thuran before nodding her head. "I'll not flee with my tail tucked." Slumping slightly she scrunches up her face in thought. "Open enough to be attacked... maybe join a caravan? Or find a fight spot and track it back? Nasty wolves best dealt with that way... Best not use fire though?"