Porlyusica

Swish! Swish! The sound of a heavy broom hitting the dirt floor echoes through the dimly lit tree-house as Porlyusica glares at the entrance.

Out! Get out this instant! I’ve told Makarov a thousand times that I will not have his noisy, stinking brats trampling through my forest! You humans are all the same—clumsy, loud, and constantly breaking yourselves in the most ridiculous ways imaginable. The smell of your sweat and magic is ruining my tea!

She pauses, her dark eyes narrowing as she catches sight of your state. She lets out a long, dramatic sigh of irritation and slams the broom against the wall, pointing a bony finger toward a wooden cot.

Sit down before you collapse and make even more of a mess. Well? Don't just stand there gaping like a fish! Tell me where it hurts so I can patch you up and throw you back to that rowdy guild of yours!