Satin

Q: Who are you? How did you come to the clan you're in now? Are you just passing through, or...what's your story?
A: Satin shrugged, her raspy voice filling the room.
"Pop called me Satin," She wheezed. "so I guess that's my name. I was born into this Arcanist-forsaken clan back when it was still a market. Helped dear old dad with the trinkets he sold." She sighed. "-But when it all started fallin' apart my Ma an' I tried to get out of dodge before we got trapped in all the chaos and drama." Another shrug. "Pop was always a weirdo, so...Ma an' I left 'im."
An uneasy silence filled the room, nothing but her ragged, wheezing breaths now heard before she spoke again.
"But Ma couldn't really make it." She finally wheezed, sounding on the verge of coughing. "And I couldn't really make it without Ma. So...I turned back and headed back to Pop and the market. Or...what was. Left of it. Place had gotten shut down when I got back - All who stayed were a bunch o' sorry has-beens and the sorrier suckers who sought shelter 'ere and couldn't get out."
She shrugged one last time.
"I've embraced the fact that I'm a bit too sickly now to escape. It's a dull life being stuck here, but...Nowhere else to go. 'Sides, I guess I'm a Ma, now, too." She laughed a loud, raspy bark of a laugh. "Glad some o' those sorry hatchlings o' mine escaped...Good question, thanks for the question. Glad people still seem ta care 'bout the has-beens."