[center][b][h1]Benedict Kaspin[/h1][/b][/center]
[hr]

Ben's eyes snapped open at the sound of a billowing horn. He wasn't a stranger to the sound, but it put him on edge. In his tribe, the guards used it to signify a battle. An act of [i]war[/i].

His eyes turned very quickly to the side to face his company. A woman. Human by the looks of it. Average height. Athletic build. She had a sword. Nothing he hadn't seen before. But she had... Strikingly red hair. The only ones he had seen were powdered wigs worn by the wealthy and nobles in the few glimpses he'd had of them when he wasn't shoveling horse shit.

He breathed inward, fire building in his throat and lighting up the cracks under the larger scales on his neck. But he did not release it. Not yet.

He knew how to speak basic human speech. At least the dialect he had heard spoken by his previous owners. He knew there were many more languages spoken by humans, but if he didnt try and that horn was blown by a warlord due to his presence and this girl was one of that warlord's warriors... Well, he could end up dead.

[b]"That horn yours?"[/b] He said in his booming, deep voice. He was surprised by the perfect syntax of his words. He couldn't speak that well.

[b]"I dont mean to intrude on your land, if it's yours."[/b]

There is was again. That art of grammar. It flowed off his tongue like his native language.

Strange.