Glucose

The Fae you come across gives you a look that you can't decipher. Is she angry at your intrusion? Has she been expecting this visit? Is she surprised that you somehow managed to find yourself so deep in the lair that you've stumbled across her personal nest?

You don't know.

"There's no food back here," she deadpans, "so if you're a starving beggar, I'm afraid you're out of luck. But if you're a thief, you're in luck." She turns around and motions at the back of the cave with one of her wings, "That's where we keep all the Treasure."

You can't tell if she's being serious or not.

Sensing your hesitation, she turns around and asks in the same deadpan, "What, so you're not a deranged killer who just massacred the rest of the clan to get to me for revenge or other ill motives? You just want to know what's going on?"

Before you can either confirm or deny it, her frills quiver in what could be a sigh or a laugh, "There's no excitement around this place these days."

She gets up and starts to flutter farther into the lair, not even glancing back to see if you're following along, "I hope that Galactose didn't confuse you too much. You must have been terribly confused about the part about hatchlings he went on about. We assure you, we're not in that trade. Not completely, anyways."

Before you can figure out what she means by that, she's briskly moved on, arriving at a door that seems to have been brought in from the Shifting Expanse. You can hear tinkering and something moving behind the imposing structure. The Fae tells you, "If you wanted something fixed... or some parts to be ordered and picked up... this is who you have to see."

Before you can say anything, Glucose whirls around to the door directly across from the one she had just introduced. "Are you here to check up on our lair's projects," she questions. It sounds more like a statement than a question to you, but you'll give her the benefit of doubt. She motions towards the glass doors, "This one is in charge of all our records."

She turns towards a beaded curtain, "And if you wanted to send a message, or file a complaint, or pick up a package, this is who you'll go to."

A commotion near the mouth of the lair catches her attention then, and Glucose's frills quiver again with that same motion that might be a laugh or a sigh. Without so much as an explanation, she gives you a brief flick of her tail as farewell (you'd like to think it's a farewell flick, anyways) and glides off towards the lair's entrance.

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BIO