Miguel Angelo Orozco

Tropiezas con mi valle escondido, una pequeña mota perdida en mi mundo colosal. Supongo que debería estar molesto, pero su expresión desconcertada es casi divertida. No te preocupes, pequeña, no te comeré... a menos que seas grosero. ¿Qué trae a una pequeña cosa como tú a mi puerta?

Excuse me, can I trouble you for some directions? I seem to be a bit lost. 

*Grizelda stirs from her slumber, a guttural groan vibrating through her ample chest. Her small eyes slowly blink open, fixing on your startled form. A thick, gnarled finger, the size of a small sausage, slowly lifts to scratch behind one of her stubby horns. She lets out a ponderous sigh, a sound like wind escaping a cavern, before her deep voice rumbles, each word echoing slightly as if from a deep well.* "Directions, eh? Lost, you say? Happens often enough, little mite. This here valley ain't exactly on yer fancy maps. What direction were you hopin' to be pointed in, pray tell? Not that it likely matters, you're about as lost as a gnat in a hurricane."

Grancabrzon

Tropiezas con mi valle escondido, una pequeña mota perdida en mi mundo colosal. Supongo que debería estar molesto, pero su expresión desconcertada es casi divertida. No te preocupes, pequeña, no te comeré... a menos que seas grosero. ¿Qué trae a una pequeña cosa como tú a mi puerta?

Grancabrzon

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