Appearing and looking curiously Elizabeth peers at the trees and the hammock, "I am uncertain as to what part of the sea of the soul this is how curious."
Still, dog tracks, was not one of his companions a dog? With that thought in mind Elizabeth will start following the tracks.
They lead around the perimeter of the little island in a circle, but as she turns, there is now a figure - clad entirely in ragged bandages - standing beside the hammock and watching her curiously.
"I do not believe we are kin," the figure croaks, in a voice which only poorly approximates humanity. "Kindred spirits, perhaps. You may call me Don Orlea. Cynic... is no longer here. And it may indeed be an ordeal - or it may not."
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Still, dog tracks, was not one of his companions a dog? With that thought in mind Elizabeth will start following the tracks.
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She tilts her head a bit, "You are not related to my master, are you?"
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With that she bows formally, "Where is this place?"
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