Cold.
The air was biting cold, but Vaunk had been used to such weather. It was nothing he couldn't handle, Vaunk knew, as he watched a man poke away at coals from afar. Clearly, he must've just had a tasty meal—something Vaunk was eager to get his hands on, hungry as he was.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he was quite the conman, silvered tongue and all.
Breaking from his cover, Vaunk approached the campsite, acting as if he had just stumbled upon it. "Ho, traveller!" He called, waving the man down. "My name is Vaunk; I had seen your fire's smoke from afar. Surely you don't have any spare fish lying around?"
Slowly, Vaunk reached into a pouch, and pulled out an egg-like stone. "Legend has it that this is an egg of a once great beast. If you can fish up enough to send me on my merry way, then I'd gladly offer it in exchange."