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  Their voice was rough, ragged from lack of use. The fact they knew common language was incredible, but more incredible was their boxcar. It was covered in a thick layer of snow, hardly discernible from a hill, yet warm inside and insulated. It was home for this orphan. Upon carefully opening the dilapidated wooden door, one is met with a small, comfortable living space. The boxcar was once a bright color, certainly, but age and rust had dulled it, and very much so. Crevices were lined with pieces of fabric to keep the chill of the deep winter out. There was a rug at the door which had no color. All of it had been sucked out by age and wear. To the right, there was a pile of blankets and pillows, presumably meant to be a bed. Above this pile there were hooks which held up clothing Gabe had gathered from deceased adventurers. As wrong as it may seem, morality is not free. Morals are only reasonable when one is rich, or at least not an orphan living in a boxcar.
  "I've never had fitting clothes a day before in my life, miss. Thank you." Gabe twisted their torso to look into Saige's eyes. Their knowledge of how typical beings interacted was astonishing.
  "Of course, Gabe. May I ask a question?"
  Gabe hesitated, their bright green eyes glancing away. "Of course, miss."
  "How do you know how to act? How did you learn common without parents?"
  A bit of hurt stung in Gabe's eyes as their mind once more scrambled for a memory of their parents. Nothing. No memories. "I found books, miss."
  "And how did you learn to read?"
  "I just knew, miss. I knew how to read. Left to right, sound out the words, figure out what they mean."
  "How odd..."
  Gabe looked away in shame. "I do ask that you leave now, Saige. There is a scent on the wind that you should not be caught by."
  "What?"
  Gabe's horns glowed for a second. "Go. And go now."