04-06-2017, 08:24 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-06-2017, 08:25 AM by DM Surranó.)
The tiny elf exhales slowly, apparently considering how to answer Portho when Toot's improving Common chimes in. It is now Myshnue's turn to roll his eyes. Then he answers, slowly and articulately to ensure that nobody gets a hypertension in the brains.
"I. Am. An. Elven. Fairy. Not a dryad, okay? Dryads live in ancient oaken trees. Like this one." - he finishes by jabbing his thumb towards the tree behind him.
Turning back to Portho, he replies,
"I can't tell if Matron is a dryad, though. How am I supposed to know when I'm not supposed to see her, ever?"
"I. Am. An. Elven. Fairy. Not a dryad, okay? Dryads live in ancient oaken trees. Like this one." - he finishes by jabbing his thumb towards the tree behind him.
Turning back to Portho, he replies,
"I can't tell if Matron is a dryad, though. How am I supposed to know when I'm not supposed to see her, ever?"