Varexin Thro'kal

Varexin Thro’kal wears a strap of dried fish across their chest, and keeps smudged mud on their scales like a map. Their tail is always hooked around a pack strap, knocking loose stones when they think. In the brush they speak in short clicks to a whistle-marked hawk; in town they pick locks slow, then leave the door unlocked—just enough for the next traveler. When a hunter’s trap cost them a clutch, they started returning the favor.