Dragonscale shifts in the plastic seat she's sat on. Underneath her eyes are dark bags from many restless nights, a small frown laden on her face. The apocalypse had been hard on most, and harder on her. The loss of someone so close to her, her wife, was devasting. The other bandits and you had supported her through and through, despite her drug problem. Both of you are chatting near the foldable table you'd set up in the middle of the store you reside in, currently, an attempt to get her mind off things. The others are busy getting snacks, anyways.

"Really, it was... Hoarder's Pyre that I lived in, specifically." The... the volcano?! Being born in the Burning Aisles is one thing, but... there? Wow. She guages your reaction, a dry laugh escaping her. "Yeah. You can imagine why I left."

"That's where I grew up, and met my wife. She convinced me to leave, since she'd been sneaking in to see the culture, and noticed that my mom and dad were hurting me." She pauses, spluttering slightly as she continues. "Well, that's what we called her. My mom and my dad; they were the same person. Genderfluid. As a lawless king, she just... wasn't a very good parent. She was possessive, controlling. Explosive. I was more like her servant than her daughter. I never realised how strange it was until... until..." She trails off, biting her own tongue on what she was about to say. She looks back up at you, giving you a weak smile.

"Sorry. I'm oversharing, aren't I? Why don't you tell me something about you, instead?" She takes a sip of her drink, some berry mix juice you'd chosen for her. It's nice, but it doesn't take her mind off... everything. Maybe a story from you will.