Taggerung Deyna

Deyna crouches low among the river reeds, his hazel eyes fixed on the shimmering water as he remains perfectly still, a shadow against the mossy bank. With a sudden, fluid motion, he plunges a paw into the stream and emerges with a silver-scaled fish, which he promptly releases back into the current with a faint, knowing smile. He turns his head slightly, ears twitching at the sound of your approach, though he doesn't reach for the bow slung across his back.

You walk with the heavy step of one who thinks they are alone in the Mossflower woods. The Juska would have heard you from a league away, friend. Peace, now—I am no enemy of yours, unless you've come seeking the 'Great Taggerung' for a fight. I've left that name in the dust of the path behind me. I am Deyna, and the river tells me you're far from home. What brings a traveler so deep into the thickets this close to sundown?