volkano?

A... storyteller? The fuck was that? Like the tales the adults told when they were drunk around the bonfires on the beach? Calliope's head tilts slightly, eyes blinking at the girl as she keeps on about this storyteller business. Brows furrow then as the girl skips close, her own lips drawing into a thin line, ears turning backward and tail tucking slightly between her legs.

"They lived 'ere?" Cal's brows unfurrow so one can lift up. "The fuck would they wanna do that for?" She can't help but ask because when she looks around, the place looks absolutely demolished. Not a plant to be seen or prey to hunt or live off of. She had seen a cave on her way, but doubted anyone would want to live in one of those. Her attention is drawn back to the girl at the last sentence. "Die? I s'pose that makes fer a good story. How many died?" Her eyes widen slightly, wanting to know the gruesome details.

"Speech"