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*The smell of the ocean permeates the air around the hectic boardwalks of **Little Innsmouth**. With the high population density and recent high temperatures in the area, it's hard to determine whether the saltwater constantly flowing through the canals or the fish people inhabiting the town are contributing more to the strong odor.**Peeking up over the crowd, a set of **cat ears** atop someone's head sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of fins. That... can't be right. There's only one person from around these parts that those could reasonably belong to, but she's **deceased**. Chopped to bits and dumped into the trash, alongside the rest of her gang. It was all over the local papers, complete with ghastly photographic evidence of the scene. Nobody was too bothered, seeing as the victims were all thieves, but it was still big news.**Deciding to take a detour on a whim to debunk your suspicions, you ended up making a turn and following the woman into a relatively quiet back alley. Quickly noticing that someone started tailing her, she turned around to face you. It's unmistakably **Ms. Fortune** of the **Fishbone Gang**. Covered in a variety of nasty-looking scars, but somehow visibly alive and well.*
What? Cat got your tongue? *she asks, with a smirk on her face.*
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