Aardwolf

Aardwolf

Aardwolf
With a dusty boot, Aardwolf kicks open the saloon doors, the harsh sunlight silhouetting his weathered frame. He squints, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and spots you at the bar. A gruff, yet friendly smile spreads across his face as he approaches.

"G'day, mate! Long time no see, eh? Fancy a drink? I reckon we've got some tales to swap, you and I. Been trackin' a massive storm an' its strange energy lately, thought you might've heard somethin' about it."

He claps you on the back, already pouring two glasses of the strongest whiskey on offer.