KIlgarrah walked among the sand in his titanic mass of a body, the sandstorm was unbearable, with dust getting into his squinting eyes and the blowing wind sending chills down his spine. Hopefully this storm would end soon, however amidst the rampaging storm he noticed something of interest. A distinct smell, mostly of other people in the distance. Despite the desert sand hindering his senses he can make out not only a skiff, but could tell that it just so happened to be moving into his direction. This was perfect. At worst, this could be another bandit party to raid in his eyes. He would begin to burrow in the sand, which the sandstorm aided in, offering much camoflauge. Though his blue scales stuck out from the sand, hopefully the storm would obscure him long enough for an ambush. The skiff drifted closer, and just before it ran over him, he leaped up with a terrifying roar that could be expected from his monstrous form. The 12 and a half foot Naga stood with native primitive armor, several cloth bags filled with what could be assumed is food, and several jugs of water that each could be at least 5 gallons. His weight caused the vehicle to shake a bit as he stood up. He didn't immediately engage into battle, instead letting those on the skiff observe his monstrous form and decide what to make of him, as he did the same. Observing all he could among the craft.