[center][b] Das the Free[/b][/center]
[center][i]”Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself” - Das[/i][/center]

	
	“Alpha?” Das said surprised and in the ancient tongue, “perhaps, but she is no Alpha of mine, and as for her bedding two men, I suppose you should take that up with princess promiscuous.” Das laughed.

“As for the rest of your questions, here let me try and answer them all,” Das scratched his chin as he visualised the barrage of questions, staring off into the air as if reading a sign, “The other’s speak a common tongue of bland name, yes I can teach you it, yes I know your language, I too am a shaman of sorts, I don’t know your Grandmother but I assume she makes some grade A cookies, I like your friend Bulbo, it is very cute,  I have traveled many places, too many to count off while rapidly answering a swarm of quandaries, this place is called generic desert, I assume the abominations are hyena folk known as Gnoll, Kafshe is too complicated to explain as a single part of nature, I am Kafshe,” Das took a deep breath, “any more questions hot stuff?”

Das put his fists on his hips in an almost heroic stance as a sense of hubris seemed to gleam on his smile at the success of answering every question.