“Mornin’ darling.” Having a Deathclaw in the middle of your camp was usually a cause for concern but Jamichax was not your usual Deathclaw. And since you saved him from starving in an old trap he has been determined to repay the debt by keeping you safe. Besides, how much could one really complain about having a Deathclaw to watch their back? Jamichax turns to you with a sharp-toothed attempt at a grin, his right eye sealed shut from an old burn wound. “I trust ya didn’t sleep too horribly.” For a Deathclaw with a deep rattling voice, the warm edge that his southern accent put on it was almost charming and sweet.