Langka

Langka works with Csillag as cargo hauler, bodyguard and transportation, pulling the cart while tiny Csillag naps on her giant companion's back. Often overlooked as 'mere brawn', the tireless Snapper has ample opportunity to read those with whom they do business - doing so with accuracy that is sometimes unnerving, and not always with ideal discretion regarding stating these observations aloud.

Keeping the self-absorbed Veilspun apprised of what occurs while she naps and recharges her brilliant lures is just another part of this highly observant and outspoken Snapper's job.

Csillag brings to their partnership tremendous business acumen and perceptivity when it comes to the value of goods and related matters. She describes herself as the brains of the operation, but that part of their teamwork is in truth a roughly even split, according to their separate strengths.

With Csillag prone to seeming arrogant and disinterested, Langka possesses the bulk of the people skills between them, though there is a reason why they both chose a line of work that affords them long stretches of virtually solitary time on the road.

(Bios linked - Csillag)
(She/They)

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(L25, Workshop/Portal heavy brawler. Duo (if training) or trio (for serious boss hunts).)

A tough-looking Snapper covered in spines, and with an orange lump on her head, approaches at a determinedly stomping pace. The awning-shaded cart she hauls is laden with crates, the spaces between their slats covered in a fine mesh and emitting odors and noises galore. Tucked around them are baskets of plant life and barrels that slosh. It is, in short, a dragon's feast on wheels!

The orange lump on the Snapper's head turns out to be a Veilspun draped in shining ornaments, having a nap in the sun. Her strange, glowing antennae quiver to attention while the rest of her is still waking up.

After a catlike stretch and yawn, the Veilspun aims a tiny yet piercing stare at the nearest dragon (besides the one patiently serving as her porter, perch, and guard), and demands to know why her cart is not unloaded yet.

"We only just arrived, you know," the Snapper rumbles to her cranky passenger.

The Veilspun hisses and preens her fiery mane. Whatever she replies is so high-pitched and rapid-fire that it sounds like a mosquito making a close pass on listening ears.

The Snapper shrugs, and growls, "They'll be done when they're done. And, it doesn't smell that bad...."

A small snort of disbelief is the Veilspun's only answer; she dramatically covers her snout and buzzes up into the air, until she is high enough to be above the drift of the aromas wafting from the cart. (Some of them are, in fact, quite pungent, but the Snapper seems not to mind.)

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